


These Little Deaths

by wrhl



Series: These Violent Delights [3]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: College, Dependant Relationship, Frerard, M/M, Murder, Obsession, Pining, Prison, These Violent Delights, book three, comic book writer gerard, murderer!frank, murderer!gerard, petekey, prisoner!frank, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-04-16 08:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 187,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4619307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrhl/pseuds/wrhl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a mistake. That was all it was meant to be when Gerard called Pete that fateful night. The bruises were fading, he was fading. He would have to get Frank back. But to get Frank back he would have to face all these little deaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nighttime

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my beautiful readers! This is the third and last book the the TVD series. I am in a bit of a precarious living situation but I will be updating every Wednesday or as frequently as possible. This one will be longer than the last two so chapters like this are not uncommon. I hope you love this book as much as I do.

 

Gerard was running, running from or to something. He couldn't tell the difference, maybe it was both. But he had to get there, he had to get to that something, he knew. But it was not just anything. It was his something. It was something that he had always wanted. Always needed. It was something that he had lost.

Frank.

The name shot like a bullet and kissed his brain in a gentle caress, rocking his entire body like lightening. He was waiting for him, running towards him. His legs weren't getting tired, his body wasn't making a difference. He had to try harder. But he was not sure if he was actually covering ground, there was nothing to tell him that he was doing it.

It was all white, off white at that, and glowing, sort of. Like it was too clean for it's own good. Like everything was sterile. A hospital.

He hadn't been in a hospital since Frank's hand had gotten hurt. And that was white. Till they soiled it, and turned it red.

He would have shivered if he was not already bothered by something.

He was nervous, the world waiting on stand by in a fog. His eyes turned and he combed the world for his lover, for a hurricane in a human. There was nothing but off white. That was all he could see around him, over him, under him.

He was moving through a crowd just as he saw that, people appearing out of thin air in his subconscious, giving him time to push them over and stand on tip toe every few seconds to get a look at Frank. Not like he would be able to see him over the crowd of people.

They were unchanging people, striding forward in a sort of uniform chaos. Now, maybe Gerard didn't feel all alone. There was comfort in the people, the non-unique dream people that he passed, like water over rocks, he bumped their shoulders and pushed them aside.

At least there was something besides the white now.

He had to find him, he had to get to Frank again. He just had to. There was no point to it, or maybe there was. He had to find him, had to get him. He knew that at least.

He needed him, he loved him. There was a concave in his chest from the slipping away of his soul, the hollows in his skin seemed to get bigger, darker. Maybe it was the fact that he had nothing but coffee for the past two days of his waking life.

He missed him, in his waking life. He wanted to see him again. Even if it was just a dream. He wanted him to touch him again.

“Frank!” he screamed, he wasn't sure where he was. And he was moving too fast to look. He was just focused on getting to Frank. Just focused on finding his lover. He had to get to him.

He slowed himself down and gave him a little more time to breath, time to comb through the crowd, the fantasy that seemed anything but.

Was he at the end of this all? Was there a light at the end of the tunnel? Was it Frank? Or was he alone with these nothing people forever?

His heart raced with the thought of not finding him. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He didn't like it.

He walked faster, despite just having slowed down, looking around at the landscape. He was wobbly breathing, face covered in sweat. His legs were jelly, arms speeding past his body in time with his walking. He had to find him, he had to. There would be dire consequences if he didn't.

A little boost of speed for a few feet, he had to. He had to. He had to get to Frank, wherever he was. He had to find him. He wiped his hand on his face, coming off with dirt and sweat and fear.

His stomach twisted into knots. He couldn't do it. What if he couldn't do it?

No, he had to do it. He had to find him. But there was still fear that resided within him. There was still anxiety. He would wake up and be alone again.

He felt sick.

He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't. The thought alone made him nauseous, made him want to vomit up everything he hadn't eaten.

He loved Frank, and he was sure that Frank loved him. He was sure that Frank wanted him. He just had to find him.

He shook his head, the head in the dream that felt all too real. Everything felt all too real. Of course Frank loved him. But then why would he be hiding if he did? Why wouldn't he just show himself like he did in all the other dreams?

Maybe this was a bad one. Maybe this one was much more negative than all the other ones. Maybe this one would tell him the truth.

He shook and he felt even more sicker. He knew why. He knew why Frank was hiding from him. He knew why he had forsaken him.

Your fault,” whispered something in his ear. It was a soft sound, falling like an anvil and crushing all his bones, making his tin heart clang with the weight.

The voice spoke the truth, the heavy truth. This was all his fault, he had lost his lover and it was his fault. He had done this to Frank, he had lost him, pushed him away. He had ratted on him.

And in the most selfish way possible.

Kill some people? No, Gerard would never tell. Try to kill Gerard, and he sent for help the instant he got away. He only cared when his perfect little piece of insanity got fucked up.

He was bad. He felt dirty and dingy and gross.

No wonder Frank did not want him. No wonder Frank tried to suffocate him. He was bad and he didn't even notice it.

He didn't realize how terrible he was till now. He didn't realize how disgusting he was till he really examined it.

He had thought that he was a good person. He thought that he was kind. Even though he was a killer, he thought that he was good. But he was bad, he was a life ruiner. He was a bad person and he deserved nothing but pain, nothing but death.

He deserved nothingness.

It made him sick and he knew that he wasn't even deserving of coffee tomorrow. He shouldn't even wake up tomorrow.

But Frank didn't deserve this fate that he had been given. He didn't deserve to be lost like he was. Thrown away like he was. Only the most disgusting people should be tucked away. Gerard should be tucked away. He was horrible. And now, everyone knew it. Everybody could see what a bad person he was.

He felt like it was on his skin now, the dirty soot of a bad person. Everyone could see it, on his forehead, the back. He didn't even want to go outside in the kitchen tomorrow.

Mikey would see him and he would know what he did. He would hate him like Frank hated him. Like he hated himself

Frank was art. Frank was good.

Gerard was worse than him. He was worse than anything that Frank had ever done. Worse than any amount of murder. He was dirtier than him, soiled and impure.

That was what he was, he was impure.

Frank could never change, Frank could never rust. He was everlasting. He was beautiful.

He needed Frank. He felt at his neck, feeling the thread that held them, the bruises on his throat that would fade away with time.

He didn't want them to fade away. He didn't want Frank to fade away.

He needed Frank to stay within him, like a ghost in his throat. He needed to be near him or he would surely fade away with the thought of his old lover.

They were bad, but they were a reminder. Less painful than the cut on his hand, because the cut on his hand meant forever, the cut on his hand was happy, a lie.

He didn't deserve forever. He didn't deserve Frank.

“Frank!” Gerard yelled, blood curdling. He was a killer, he was ungrateful. He deserved to suffer.

He was rotting on the inside. He just wanted Frank to hold him and tell him that he was okay. That he was good and that he loved him.

He didn't want to be bad anymore.

He didn't want to be destruction anymore. He wanted to be good. He wanted to be good.

He deserved nothing like Frank said he did. He didn't deserve happiness. He deserved death.

Yourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault

It was all his fucking fault. The landscape around him knew it. It seemed to throw stones at him, little reminders that he was a writhing mess of disgusting.

Like little darts into his skin, he walked faster, ran faster. He looked at the people in front of him, behind him. They were everywhere, they were everything. His clothes, his skin, stuck tighter to his body.

He was scared of them now, looking around like worry at them. He did not find their presence comforting anymore. Nothing was comforting anymore.

He was all alone, the only person truly moving, truly being. They were pushed along a conveyor belt, they weren't even moving. They became ominous creatures, he could not look them in the eye.

He pushed them all aside, as far as the eye could see that was all. That was all that was there. No Frank, no light. Just them, just nothing.

Just him in a sea of nothing. Nobody. Nothing.

And it was all his fault.

Frank was nowhere to be found and it was all his fault.

“Frank!” he screamed, falling to his knees. Nothing, there was nothing but death. Nothing but pain.

His heartbeat was loud in his ears. Another constant thing that pissed him the fuck off.

He had to give up. His legs quivered. His bones shook. He needed him. Why couldn't he find him?

Why wouldn't Frank let him find him?

He was getting frustrated, he was getting tired. He should just wake up and cry like he always did.

His ears hurt from his own scream, pulsating with prickly sweat like the rest of his skin, coming undone. He was unlacing.

Frank was doing this to him. His pain was Frank's fault.

But he deserved it. He deserved the hurt.

He had made Frank hurt.

And Frank had been _nice_ about it. He had even declined to run away again.

Maybe it was because he hated him.

That thought made his skin seem to shrink. Made him feel too big for what he was in.

And he had still wished him happiness. He had still wished him the best.

And Gerard had kicked that back in his fucking face. He was a wreck now.

His skin seemed to pulsate and whither some more.

He felt all too tight, all too bright, like he was a supernova but much more ugly. He felt too small, squirming like a worm in his pain. He was nothing without Frank.

He was nothing.

 

 

 

For a second that was all that was there. Nothing. That was all he saw, the curtain drawing, scene fading to black before another one popped in. Another one, a better one. This one had Frank.

 _“My darling,”_ came a voice through the fire, the one Gerard came towards, came nearer to, uncoiled for. He had to see him. It was him. It was the light of his life. The beacon of hope that he existed within, couldn't exist without. It was his haven.

It tasted sweet on his ears, like he was a man in the desert just tasting water for the first time.

“Frankie?” he asked, like he was coming up from said water, like he had been drowning for a very long time. He had. And it showed in his scratching voice. His voice scraped like pleasantries on awkward ears. Like Thanksgiving with strangers.

But there was still hope, expanding in his chest, smoothing out his skin. There was something.

He moved his face to look at his lover, dirty haloed and the most heavenly thing he had ever seen. Gerard was laying in a sea of nothing, sea of everyone moving around him in a simulation. They parted, making way for the scene that Gerard and Frank were making, not noticing it, not noticing anything. They were forever there, even in the black they were there. Gerard did not notice anymore, Gerard did not care.

Not when Frank looked so beautiful, so kind. He was here, he had shown himself. Like God.

Everything seemed to fade into a fuzzy background when there was Frank to look at; the off white of everything else brightening his smile. He looked even more heavenly when he did.

There was warmth spreading through Gerard. He knew that it was a dream. Or at least, he didn't want to. He wanted to push it aside. It had been so long since he had seen his lover. He missed him so much. He missed him so much that it hurt his chest to look at him.

He was benediction. He was an addiction.

He was even sweeter when Gerard moved closer to him, shuffling, not worthy yet of standing up to him. Besides, he looked prettier from the ground. From where Gerard could not soil him.

His hand cupped Gerard's shoulder, bony with the fact that he was not eating, caving in with the fact that he could not take care of a soulless body. He looked kind, eyes bright and waiting for him. He did not care about his flaws, about his failures.

This was pure, eyes soggy with affection. This was everything Gerard could have dreamed of seeing in his lover's face.

Gerard was going to explode with happiness. He had missed him. He had yearned for him. It had felt like years, years of darkness and cold. And now there was light. And Frank was so warm.

That was all he could think about. There was nothing bad anymore. Nothing could harm him when Frank was there.

His sickness fell away, his guilt fell away. There was only Frank. And that was what made everything okay.

He had forgotten the little details of his face, the indent of his wrinkles and way his smile moved his face around to be even more perfect.

He had forgotten how his hand felt, heavy and curling on him. He had forgotten a lot of things about him.

If he wasn't so blissed out that would have startled him. Would have worried him. He was forgetting Frank, he was forgetting forever. But now he had him and everything was okay. He was remembering everything.

He was lost in the fog of loving Frank, but them he spook to him, a fuller sentence than his entrance.

The words to come out next were harsher than his inviting and cool smile. His face was happier than his biting words. It threw Gerard off.

He was waiting, hopeful and just as fresh looking as Frank, the same stare that two blooming lovers would give each other. But his face fell when Frank spit his words, the words that Gerard was least expecting, most expecting. They were true, and they bit at Gerard's eardrums.

“You pathetic little fuck. This is all your fault. I breathe you life, teach you how to do what I do, so your minuscule life has a little thrill, and this is how you repay me?” he asks, and the lemon in his words seemed to cut him as much as the happy glint in his teeth. They seemed to sparkle just to blind Gerard.

Gerard quivered away, flinching. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” He felt even more confused by the dissonance in his voice and face.

“Yeah, you're sorry, you pig. I loved you,” Frank grabbed his hair, forcing him to look up. His entire face now was melting. His eyes melded with his nose and his eyebrows sagged like weeping willows. It didn't phase him. He stayed just as angry.

“I'm sorry,” Gerard was left gasping from pain and confusion and hurt. He wanted to wake up. He needed to wake up. Had to get away. Had to. Now was him just wanting out. Frank was not the picture perfect thing that he had wanted. At least not this one. Gerard blinked and Frank was back to the same regular face, nothing melting, nothing shifting.

Just angry, like the face he imagined when he was killing him.

He scuttled away from Frank, pulling and gasping and scared out of his mind. He wanted to defend himself, to say that this Frank was wrong. But he was right, he was too right. And that terrified Gerard. He towered over him.

He felt under fire from someone who had never done this to him before. Frank had never said a bad word against him and now he was being so cruel to him. He was being so truthful to him.

“Pathetic, weak,” spit this Frank, following him, whole body melting and waxing into the white. He seemed to pulsate with it, power in the endless white.

Gerard backed up his being with Frank's footsteps. Why wouldn't he wake up, why couldn't he wake up?

He felt like he would never wake up. He was stuck with a Frank that hated him in this hellish landscape forever.

He needed to face this. He needed to face his punishment. Face the truth.

He gulped and came forward again, gaining the courage to face his punishment. He held onto Frank's legs. His fingers clung to him, like he was going to claw at him. But no, he just waited for him, held onto him. He was quivering with fear.

Frank had never really looked at him before like this, not even when Gerard looked back for that split second, running away from the pillow.

Frank looked disgusted but did not move from his grasp. Gerard gently, slowly, grasped at his hands, hanging limply to his sides. He looked much more pale compared to Frank. He looked sickly compared to the God of a former lover that he had.

He was unworthy. He deserved pain.

“Kill me,” he whispered slowly, cracked lips rough like nails as he ran his tongue over them. There was no sound besides the pulsing of his ears, the pulsing of his heartbeat through out him. It scared him, but he focused on Frank, scared of Frank.

He moved the hands, the fingers to grip to his throat. They fit around him slowly, like Frank was not sure if he actually wanted to go through with killing him.

His heart was beating faster now, chest rising and falling with his breaths, quick and oh so inviting to stifle.

Frank pressed in, hesitantly at first, lightly. He looked to Gerard, face turning into pure hatred, solidifying. He wanted to hurt him.

And Gerard wanted to be hurt.

“I deserve pain,” Gerard said, looking at the ground of nothing. It was white, softly shining as most nothings do. He said this mostly to himself, but Frank replies anyway, mouth full of venom like before.

“Yes, you do. You were bad. You are bad,” Frank says, squeezing harder.

Gerard believed him. Gerard let the pain and the guilt wash over him. He deserved this. He had earned this pain, this hurt. He was a bad person. He was a bad person. It was all his fault that this had happened to him.

He should have taken it like a man the first time. He should have

There are no effects quite yet, just the feeling like something bad is going to happen. He repeats the last sentence to Frank, looking up at his lover, who is now anything but. “I am bad.”

His eyes show more hatred. Gerard is calm and waiting, like the storm hasn't already came. Like he was not dying already.

He loves him so much he is dying.

Frank furrows his brow and starts to press harder. He grits his teeth and spits out through hatred, “It's all your fault.”

Gerard knows that it is. Both of them know that it is and they blame him. They both blame Gerard.

He looks down again. He can't face his lover. No, he is not his lover anymore. The person that loved him would leave with the bruises. Had left the moment Gerard got out of Portland. The moment the pillow hit his face.

He moves to glance at his hand, the one that has the scar on it. The scar is now gone, and he is alone. He loves Frank so much that he would kill himself in this dream before Frank did.

But this is better. This is punishment. Gerard feels more guilty, less guilty. He reminds himself that he deserves this.

Gerard's face feels colder and he sputters, once before it dies out. “I miss you,” he whimpers. His throat is starting to hurt. His neck is starting to hurt. He is telling the truth.

He pours his heart out to Frank with full intention of the carcass being left on the floor. It had already gone from his body, anyway.

It stayed with Frank, the real Frank.

This Frank is as real as the one that Gerard will awake to. He is as real as the person he betrayed.

Tears fall down onto Frank's hands. He betrayed him. He betrayed Frank. He loved him so much and he threw him away.

He deserved it. He deserved every inch of pain Frank could give him. He deserved hurt.

Frank presses steadily harder on him, thumbs meeting to bloom destruction on him. “This is your fault,” he repeats, eyes dark and storming with hate. Gerard can feel his fingers, closing his windpipe, giving him punishment.

He deserves this. It repeats like a mantra in his head, like a gong. Everything is swimming. Everything is hurting.

Gerard can almost see himself in the pearly white of this landscape around them. It starts to fade.

He has forgotten the people that congregate to a different place from there. They move like a school of fish, parting to make way for this mindlessly. They do not witness the execution.

Even if it is a dream, he is going to die here. And they will never notice.

He wonders if this would make Frank happy. He wasn't sure, if even in his dream, he would be able to witness Frank being happy.

Gerard feels like he could just fade away. But he needs to take this. His head starts swimming. He deserves this. They both know that he deserves this. He had to endure it. He had to feel the pain that he caused Frank.

The thought makes him feel naked. Makes him feel more vulnerable.

“I love you.” It sounds like it's coming out of a different mouth, a mouth that was not fruitlessly spitting these words at him. Frank doesn't care, he doesn't shift. He doesn't show mercy. And Gerard doesn't expect him to.

He presses harder. Like he is punishing him, mocking him for being in love with someone who hates him so much. Gerard deserves to be punished. Frank is much too good for him. Frank is much too good for anyone. Frank is beautiful. Frank is pure.

His vision starts to blur and shift, like a gentle rocking. He feels like his head is rolling around on his shoulders. He feels like he deserves it. It doesn't hurt, not quite yet. Not his head, but it does feel like it's blowing up with pressure, like he is a balloon.

“This is all your fault,” Frank said again and he presses harder, violence making Gerard sputter again.

He must have looked like the sea, skin blue and getting bluer. It felt cold, numb.

He feels almost like he is on the brink, the cusp.

He spluttered again and replied through hollow and insignificant breaths. “It's all my fault.”

Everything goes black and he is still cold.

 

Gerard wrenched himself out of bed with a gasp, grasping onto his sheets like they were the only thing between him and death. They sure as hell felt like it.

He felt at his throat, the bruises that have been there since before his mistake were the only things there. There were nothing to tell him that Frank had really strangled him recently. The dream was just that.

He wanted to cry out to someone, to anyone what had just happened. He felt cold. But his back was sweaty and every part of him ached.

He panted, closing his eyes and squeezing them shut, trying to forget the feel of Frank on him, killing him, pure hatred on him.

He had to talk to Frank about this. He felt the sheets next to him, not registering that this was his life now. That he was not Frank's anymore. He bit his lip and looked around at the darkness. He was alone.

The sheets were cold and his back was even colder, sweat drenched and clinging to his skin. Frank was nowhere and he hadn't been anywhere for about a week now.

Gerard was all alone. Gerard was nowhere. Gerard was nothing.

He was alone. And this was his life.

He started to cry, missing Frank and needing him. He gasped out another breath as he started to sob.

His throat still hurt from the dream. Or at least, he wished it did. He felt the bruises again and pressed them, they throbbed. But they were fading. Soon they would be gone and the only thing that would remain was the lie on his hand.

He was fading.

He couldn't believe that his nightmare was seeping into his life. He could never have dreamed of having Frank, now he had to live the terror of losing him. This was what he got. This was all his fault.

It all came back to him, pain and hurt. This was how it had been for a couple of nights. This was how he had been since they came back to Jersey. Since he was wrenched away from Frank.

He was all alone now.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Why did he do that? He shivered and held himself closer. As he fell away from the dream, he fell away from the idea that he was cold, despite the sweat, his light headedness was making him numb. Maybe that was a good thing because he couldn't stop crying. It was better to feel physical nothingness while experiencing emotional pain.

This was sort of the routine. But this was the first dream where he died.

He couldn't stop letting himself turn into this mess every night. It wasn't healthy, and Mikey would notice eventually. Mikey would notice that he was in love with Frank. That he was bad. That they both were bad and for a while he had liked being bad.

And then there would be another person who didn't love him anymore. That would be another person pushed away because he couldn't keep a secret. Because he couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut.

He missed Frank so much. He let out another heart wrenching sob, clutching at his chest like they only did in the movies. It hurt so much. He felt like he was going to implode, just fall in on himself and wither away. That would be better than an eternity of this.

“Frankie!” he breathed in a whisper, the night too loud, too honest for anything other than a whisper. He only allowed that one anguish, that one piece of his heart to hit the universe. The one piece of his bloody soul to come out of his mouth.

He was right, the dream was right. Gerard was terrible, it was all his fault. He had to fix it. He had to fix this. He had to make this right so Frank would love him again.

He would never be able to fix this.

He started shaking and his mind moved fast. Could he drag Pete back into this? Could Pete help him get back to Frank again? He couldn't do this alone.

Would Frank want to see him? Could he be able to go see Frank?

He doubted it. He doubted Frank even wanted to see him again. Where was he anyway?

He had to read up on that. It had hurt too much to do it before. But now he could, now he could go and see him.

After what he did, this night's dream might just come true.

He shivered and held himself closer. He deserved it, he reminded himself. He deserved all the pain that he had been given. The pain that he had been dealt in his dream.

And just like that, he was kicking himself again. He was regretting it all again.

If he had just talked a little more, convinced him a little more. They could have left.

They could have gotten away. They could have ran away. Even if just for a little while till they got caught or the money ran out. But they could have been fireworks. Just for a little while longer.

Gerard just wanted him for a little while longer.

But Frank did not want him. Frank did not want anything to do with him. And that was his fault. That was his fault for making Frank hurt him and it was his fault for pushing him away.

Everything was all his fault. He deserved to be killed. He knew that Frank wanted to kill him, from the start. And he just kept getting closer.

He was bad. He was selfish. He was unwanted.

Gerard didn't think it would be that bad. He was just scared. He called Pete, he didn't expect for Mikey to find out. He didn't expect for it to get out of hand.

He wanted to cry harder. He wanted to stop the flow of thoughts that were rushing into his head, regrets that were rushing into his head.

He tried to say he wanted him to be happy, but Gerard knew better. He just had to see him, one more time. Try to make him love him again, try to just feel alive again.

Frank made him feel so much more alive. So much more human.

He was a selfish man. With even more selfish tendencies.

Maybe he could kill by himself. Maybe he could fake it and pretend to be Frank. Maybe Frank would want him more if he wasn't such a fucking pansy. Maybe Frank would want him if he knew that he wasn't afraid anymore.

Frank would want him if he could prove himself. If he could prove that he wasn't such a coward around death.

He wouldn't be afraid anymore. He wouldn't be afraid anymore for Frank. He had to be better. He had to be better.

 

Mikey heard his brother, in the next room. Heard him crying, heard his gasps. He didn't try to help him. The first few times he did, but he just got tired of getting up. And Gerard was always in hysterics. It was like this every night. Mikey was beginning to get used to it.

He felt a little bad that he could not help him. He felt a little bad when he didn't know his brother anymore. They were aliens, they were strangers in a house together, tight space together. He was going to suffocate.

But Gerard was still sleeping. Despite all the crying and the nightmares, he did fall asleep. That was one of the only things he was doing anymore.

He was sleeping and staring and crying. And that was basically his daily routine.

Mikey was doing less of that. He wasn't doing anything, really. It had been his routine for weeks now.

It wasn't like he ever really slept. Not anymore, not when he had to think about this all and the morning fried his brain. He felt sick when he thought about heavy stuff in the morning.

So he saved it for the night. And saved sleeping for when he felt hopeless. It was a good system. But it was not a healthy one. He took a lot of naps now. And he was almost always tired.

He had to go back to school soon, he had to go back and make everything normal again. He should just do it tomorrow, get out of bed and take a shower and just go to school. He would have missed, like, everything, but would people understand?

It didn't seem that hard to get up and just do shit. What was harder was getting the courage to go do it.

He didn't want to leave Gerard alone. He didn't want to leave him with nothing but his thoughts all day. He had to act as a parent, care like a parent.

Would people know that his brother was now the ex kidnapped of The Jay? Would they understand how scared he was for his brother? How much he missed him and how much he didn't want him to slip away? Would they understand that he had to fucking fix him?

He was crying, he was busy crying every night. And he had no idea why he was.

He was safe now. Gerard was away from Frank, he was back home and he was safe now. But he wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough to make him better, to help make him better.

Not even for a bad guy. Not even for his brother. Not even for anyone. Pete didn't want him, Gerard didn't want him. He was all alone now.

It hurt his heart to think of that. No matter how reclusive he had been during his life, he had never been alone. He had never had nobody to turn to. He was all alone now, and that terrified him.

He wondered what Pete was doing, and if he could lean on him right now. But he would not let himself do that. He would fuck him over again. He would probably take Gerard away again. He was too wary of him, he did not care if he loved him forever, he had to protect his brother. He had to keep him safe from anything that was in their past.

He needed his brother. He was his best friend.

Maybe he had to give Gerard time. He had killed people against his will. He was crying about that. It was a traumatic experience.

So was killing people and realizing that you liked it.

The thought entered against his will, going back to Bob's voice and Bob's judgmental look. There was evidence that pointed to it, there were things that Gerard could not hide.

He was different now. He could have killed. He could have wanted to. Frank could have changed him.

He wondered if none of this would have happened if he didn't tell Armani and Ray. Ray would still be alive. Gerard would probably be dead. Frank would have run a muck. He would have hurt his brother sooner or later.

He had, the day that they told him they had told. He had hurt him, pretty badly.

But that could have been an act, or Gerard could have been ensnared by him. Frank did seem the manipulative type.

Did Gerard kill him? Did Gerard kill Ray? For Frank, to prove himself? Did he kill Ray because he wanted to? Or was Frank just really that cruel?

Mikey shivered. He ought to be ashamed of himself, his brother was not a murderer by choice. Why, his brother was not truly a murderer at all. Frank had forced him to do it. Frank was the bad guy. Gerard was just the poor sap that Frank had hurt. He was innocent. He was a good person.

Gerard would never kill Ray. He felt sick just thinking about it. Truth be told, he felt a little sick thinking of Ray.

Because then he thought of death, and then he thought of funerals. And then he thought of Pete.

He cursed Frank (and Pete) for turning his best friend into something that was associated with negativity. He wanted to rejoice in Ray's life.

He did not want to despise thinking about it. Maybe one day, maybe, he could think about him without thinking about the shit storm after, and before it.

Frank had killed his best friend. Frank had killed a person that Gerard cared about, and he had made Gerard kill more people. Of course Gerard didn't want to. Of course Gerard was still upset. It was a terrible thing.

Mikey had no idea what he was going through and he had no right being this selfish.

Of course Gerard was not a bad person. Frank had done this to him. Everything that Gerard went through Frank had done it.

Frank had ruined everything. He had killed and he had ransacked a life.

He was going to kill Gerard. He shivered, but he had to make the case like that.

Of course Gerard did not want to be with him, he didn't want to kill with him. Frank did not love him and he did not love Frank. And they were no partners in these crimes. Gerard was just another victim.

Gerard was still innocent. Frank was the bad guy. He was the bad person. He was the toxic one.

Obviously, his brother deserved better than what he could give him. He ought to be ashamed of himself, he had accused his brother of being a killer by choice. He was no worse than Bob. He was a monster, his brother needed someone on his side, he needed understanding.

And he had been thinking him a murderer. He was a terrible person. He was disgusting.

What was he if he was not in Gerard's corner?

He needed support from the closest person to him. It was Mikey's duty to stand by his side one hundred percent.

He was so glad that everyone else believed Gerard. Because it would ave made everything else so much more complicated if he had to walk around, the whole country thinking that he was as guilty as Frank.

He was not bad, he wouldn't hurt a fly. Frank was the monster, he had made him do that. What other fucked up things did he make Gerard do?

He shivered again, this was not a good night for revelations. He was just sitting there, cold but too unmoved tp truly do anything about it.

He just stared forward, the room so dark he saw fuzzy rainbow colors where spaces should be, where the rest of his room should be. It all just faded to black.

Everything was just melding with the black.

He hadn't been sleeping. The idea that Gerard could make him do that forever was not very appealing. He knew he had to break out of that thought, that he had to break out of that mentality or he could never help Gerard out of this dark time. And it was the fact that he didn't have Pete anymore.

Pete helped him sleep like a baby, when he was near him. But now there was nothing except sobs and worried looks from either brother.

He was okay, for the first few days. When he was really exhausted, enough to just fall into bed. Now it was nothing. He just sat around and got hungry.

There was no Pete to talk to and Gerard was too jittery anymore to keep a conversation. He was lonely.

But maybe that was the fact that everything was devoid of color, of fun, of feeling.

He needed someone. He needed Pete back.

But he couldn't get Pete back, he didn't want Pete back. He just reminded him of Frank, of the mortality that Gerard faced every day for a month.

Gerard probably wouldn't appreciate that either.

Pete and Frank were friends. Mikey would feel dirty if he hung out with, cuddled again with Pete. He used to be part of the good things, but that was before Mikey knew about his terrible lie.

Before Mikey was betrayed.

He could not believe that Pete was nothing he had ever thought he was. He was outraged by it. He hid this from him. He had ulterior motives, he knew it.

He had no idea why he was sticking around Mikey, even after being caught in the act, and that scared him. He was paranoid. He might have been listening in on what he was talking about, ready to kill him if he snitched or if he did anything weird.

He had sat in the car with a killer, with a spy. With a betrayer. And he had loved him and he had fucked him. And he was sure, at least for a second that he loved him, too.

He was disrespectful enough to keep up the act. He was disrespectful enough to come and cling on to him at a _funeral_.

Mikey really regretted meeting Pete, taking him home, talking to him, doing anything with him. He was dirty. He was the enemy. Couldn't anyone see that? Couldn't his heart learn to see that?

There were good and bads. To this like everything.

Mikey missed Pete, but he definitely grew better at being alone. Even if the silence and the loneliness ate away like moths at a sweater. Like he was sitting in a closet instead of rotting away under blankets.

He was back to square one, he was back to before Pete. And now he had Gerard.

He wasn't quite sure if that was for the benefit of him.

He still felt hollow.

He wondered what Pete was doing ll the way back in Portland.

He shook his head, getting the thought out. No, no more of that. No more of him.

But Mikey was so lonely and everything felt even more quiet than after Gerard was taken.

He was a different person now. He wasn't his brother now.

Gerard barely talked after getting home. The first few days were the quietest. He grunts or cries to communicate most of the time. Grunting is usually the better of the two. Mikey found him to be much more jittery. Like they were in high school again. Like Gerard was under constant fire again and again, every day. He was like a cat, sitting in small and dark spaces, never speaking, barely looking at him.

But what changed from high school was that they were further apart now, like they had a wall made of grenades between them, always jumpy. Always wary.

He came out and he got his coffee while Mikey watched from over his own at him, moving methodically through the kitchen. That was usually all he saw of his brother. If he tried to talk to him he would run away. Or stutter a little, meaningless reply. He always kept his eyes down.

Like Mikey was Frank. Like Gerard was still stuck there, in Portland.

There were the awkward silences, sitting across from each other and eating whatever was left in the cupboards. Gerard was searching for a job again, trying to find one to pay rent. They didn't have much food or anything. Their house was just filled with silence.

They didn't need much food or anything, though. Eating reminded Mikey of Pete, reminded him of the late night shopping trip where he lied to him.

Gerard would hesitantly take the paper when Mikey was done combing through it. He didn't really have anything that interested him in it. But he did snag a few coupons once in a while.

Gerard looked in the job section, circling something a few times but mostly putting it down after a while and shaking his head.

He didn't want to go back to his old job, even though they offered it to him when the news announced that he was home, that he was going to be the same. His boss was nice enough to do that for him.

But he didn't want to be the same. And Mikey could understand that, that job was getting him nowhere. And they both knew it.

So Gerard was getting the leisure of picking a new job, making a new job if he had to. He just had to go back and do something. He was going insane with Mikey just staring at him all the time, worrying about him. And free time made him think of Frank. He stayed away from it as much as he could.

He was going to snap under this. Under all of this watching Mikey was doing to him.

He knew that he was being considerate, that he was worried. But if Mikey was near him anymore than he already was, he would soon tell his dirty secret. He would just unravel.

The secret that Mikey couldn't know was itching to come out and every time he looked at him it started to bubble, churning dangerously to the top.

He would die if he found out. Even if he was more jumpy, more wary around his brother now, he still loved him. And he still wanted to be loved by him.

He wished that he could go back to being the same, the same guy that he was before he met Frank. But Frank had changed him forever. He hated the fact that his brother was a stranger, a ghost that lived in the room next to him. He wanted everything to go back to normal.

But he could not let himself go back to normal, the guilt was eating away at him. Everything was slowly chipping away at him.

He thought about it mostly at night, where he could just cry away the pain, hide under the covers and pretend like they were Frank.

That was what he did tonight, when his mind wandered away from Frank and to the knot that hadn't left his stomach in a week.

Since Frank left, since he pushed him away and sent him away, (he shivered at the very thought) he had felt even worse about what he had done. What they had done. He had felt worse abut killing, about killing that girl. Just hiding the body that first time, even though he thought he couldn't be any more devastated. He thought he would be okay if Mikey just didn't find out. That if no one else found out about his monstrosities than he was going to be okay.

But now he was just eating himself alive. He was thinking about it and thinking about it. Natalie didn't deserve that. No one deserved for another person to play God.

And that was what they did. They played God. They took that girl out of her innocence. Took her out of her flower, they cut her down.

He was going to throw up. He started to cry harder, he cried harder for his love of a monster, for his existence as a monster. He cried for the girl.

She was a baby. She was a human.

He hugged himself. He didn't feel cold from the loss of Frank, he felt cold from the loss of his soul.

It hadn't hit him before. It hadn't hit him before that he had ruined lives, his lover had ruined lives. That was what they were. They took life.

They were bad. They were bad. They both were.

He didn't think he deserved Frank, he didn't think that he deserved love. Not anymore. Not after that. Not after what he did, what he cast aside as _fun_ . He did that for _fun_.

He was a terrible person. He deserved to die. He deserved to die like the rest of them.

He was a monster. He was a monster.

But Frank was worse. Frank killed more. Frank killed people because Frank had to. Gerard liked it. He never had asked his lover if he got a thrill from it.

He was not sure who was worse now, or if one life was already too many.

He curled himself tighter into his blankets, the Gods were going to get him and they were going to kill him. He was going to be justified. All the people he had harmed would get justice.

It was just a matter of time. He was terrified of what would happen to him.

But of course, so was every other selfish person.

He let the tears stream more silently down his face now. He was hidden in all of his blankets. He would have to see Frank soon, he would have to see that he was okay, that _he_ was happy with what he was doing. Because Gerard was sure not.

He had even let Frank down. He had promised him that he would be happy and what did he give him? Nothing. He was nothing.

Frank would be so disappointed.

He wanted to squirm out of his skin right then and there. He was going to let down Frank. He was going to let him down again.

Frank would never love him at this rate. Frank would hate him, he was going to hate him. He was terrified of that thought. He wanted to love him so badly. He wanted to be loved by him so badly.

He swallowed any tears that would snake their way down his face. He needed Frank. He needed to make Frank proud of him. He needed to be good for him.

But he still felt so guilty, because there was no way to fill this hole in his chest.

He was going to die if this guilt went on. He was going to explode. He needed Frank to live, to feel okay.

Frank was a distraction. But with all the blood on his hands, he wasn't sure he deserved him.

 

 

 

 


	2. Growing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY. IT'S BEEN SO LONG BUT SHIT IS FIXED AND I WILL BE UPDATING EVERY WEDNESDAY. I'M SUUUUUUUUPPPPPER SORRY. BUT IT'S HERE. PREPARE TO SUFFER

 

            Gerard and Mikey were sitting across each other; Gerard having blood shot eyes and Mikey sharing twin sleeplessness in his. They were now more alike than they ever were, similar shells of people that they once were.

            They were sucked away, sucked out by love and by hate. They were hollow men now. They were unstable men now.

            They were both used to it, the bruise like shadows of pain existing under both brothers eyes'.  The purple in the bags were like the setting sun, twilight approaching. They looked at each other, almost in surprise. Like they both were wonders to the other.

            With as rough of a night that they both had, they were surprised that each other were both out in the kitchen, and this early. They never saw much of each other, as you know from the ramblings of last night.

            They had not seen much of each other, no matter how desperately Mikey tried to get his brother back. They were farther apart than they ever had been.

            They were always so close. Hell, they decided to be roommates. Their relationship was once strong, and now it was kind of broken.

            Mikey did not expect to see Gerard out. He was wondering, really, why he was. He was not objecting; it must be a good sign if he is out of his bedroom. But with the crying like that last night, he knew that the nightmare was pretty brutal on him.

            And especially after a bad dream like that, Mikey was lucky that he even heard his brother. He usually slept a lot after that sort of thing. So you can imagine him doing it quite frequently.

            Mikey would wait for hours and not hear anything. He worried the first time it happened. But now this was fairly normal, happening half of the time that Mikey ever really heard him crying in the night.

            There were some nights where he would get up and paint or do something Gerard-like and Mikey would think that he was getting him back.

            Only in the morning when he saw no sign of him would he go back to being as glum as before.

            Mikey took a sip of his coffee and regarded how particularly gaunt his brother was. He looked like he was just on the brink of death. Or like he had actually already died.

            His skin was pale and waxing, like he was a doll more than a person. His clothes hung off of him in ways Mikey had never seen before. He was worried about him.

            He was always worried about him.

            Gerard was in such an extreme state of this being. It was probably more than even he was. And he had been in this state for weeks before Gerard came home. But he had to remember, that Gerard was held hostage by someone he might once have loved. He was forced to kill by someone he once trusted. Mikey had to remember that he did not know the whole story.

            Even though that fact bothered him to no end. He had to be patient, he reminded himself again. Patient.

            “Have you eaten anything lately?” he asked him, setting down the coffee. His voice is hoarse with the morning and the fact that he hadn't talked in a day. He looked to Gerard, assuming the nurturing role. He stared at his brother with a kind and expectant stare. He had to be patient, he reminded himself.

            He had put himself into place last night. Gerard was hurting and he had to care for him. He had to make sure he was doing alright. Or else they would never go back to being the same. And he knew that they both wanted to be the same. He knew that they were desperate to get back on routine.

            The faster they got to being their old selves again, the faster they got to forget the past. And they were both quite desperate to do that.

            Gerard ran his hand through his hair. He had to figure out when the last time was that he actually had consumed anything. He never really thought of it much, he was busy He was sure it was days before though, or something equally as unhealthy “I had some coffee yesterday,” he mumbled, snatching the paper from the table. That was all he could recall himself having.

            He was honestly, too stressed out to really eat anything.

            He was desperately looking for a job anywhere he could. He didn't have time to eat. He had to get money to afford to eat. Or their life would fall through even more, and Gerard would not let Frank do that to him.

            He loved him, but he ruined his fucking life. And he wanted to fix it, for the sake of his brother. For the sake of himself.

            Mikey could focus on living. He was the only one that really did it anyway.

            He went out to parties and he went to college. Gerard worked and stayed home. Obviously, he had his new hobby. But Mikey couldn't know about that, and he had to do it in secret. So it doesn't really count as much.

            He was sure he could contact his old job again and get it back if he was really desperate. By the end of the week he would have to if he couldn't find a new one. And he really didn't want to go back to that, it was dead end and if he got stuck back in it again; he would get stuck back in it forever.

            The job offerings for someone who majored in comic books were scarce. Maybe he should look somewhere besides the paper. Online or even in town. He was sure a store had a wanted sign up.

            If he got a part time job, he could focus a bit more on building a career rather than waiting for one. But obviously, something like that would never give him and Mikey enough money to exist comfortably. So he might even have to start looking towards getting a sort of office job.

            He kind of wished that Fran hadn't screwed all this up, at least for Mikey. He had turned his life on top of its head and then he left him hanging there, and ow when he was back on the ground he had terrible head rush and everything was wobbly.

            “Did you have anything else besides that?” Mikey asked him, standing up to check himself. He knew that Gerard had only had coffee, but he had to get on the subject of giving him food.

            Gerard scrunched up his nose. The thought of eating was not appealing. It took time out of his day. He didn't want to do it.

            Of course, he didn't do anything else all day, but he was not sure he deserved sustenance. He was still cut up about the dream he had the night before.

            He would try not to think about it. It ruined his day if he thought about Frank too much. If he thought about any of the dreams he had too much.

            Mikey was busy with making sure that they were still living. He didn't even realize what was going on in Gerard's head. About anything.

            He didn't realize the fact that he was stressing about money. He didn't realize that he was stressing about the dreams.

            And he couldn't tell him, because that would open up a can of worms that he didn't want to deal with. He wanted to just keep it under wraps. He wanted to hide it in himself.

            He didn't need to drag Mikey into that, and besides, he wouldn't understand. Gerard could never let him understand. Because that meant divulging the whole story.

            Mikey was light this morning, he was chipper and cheery. Or at least, much more than he usually was.

            It was because he didn't have anything to really stress about besides Gerard.

            Gerard felt a little bad because Mikey was taking care of him. But if he doesn't do it for himself, and he definitely doesn't, he would let Mikey check on him and help him out.

            Besides, there was nothing really else for Mikey to do.

            He didn't have to get a job. He didn't have that financial weight; he was occupied with going to school. Gerard kind of envied him for that. Although he was taking a nurturing role, he was did not have the same responsibility that Gerard had.

            His brother searched the cupboards for something that Gerard liked, ignoring his brother's eyes. He knew that he was stressed out, but he couldn't run himself into the ground over nothing.

            Mikey had to pick him up. Today was a breakthrough, he told himself. Today was a new day and the true storm was over. They could start over.

            He had to make Gerard eat. If Gerard kept on like this he would get sick. He was occupying himself with taking care of his brother. He was occupying himself with something.

            That was something useful, that was something he could do. It would keep him busy; get his mind off of things. And God knows that he needed that.

            Gerard on the other hand, was taking a bit too much. Even though he was busy, he still had all these bad thoughts on his mind. He had all these bad thoughts crowding around in his head anything more besides them hurt.

            That was what he was, ever since they were kids. He was the worrier. He was the one that was always preoccupied with something trivial. He was always the one, unable to let things go. Mikey was always quicker to try to get over something.

            “What?” he looked up from the paper and chewing his nails. He was busy, too busy. He was stressed, much too stressed.

            His stomach buzzed with something that was not hunger. It buzzed with something that was a cocktail of anxiety and stress and bad thoughts.

            Frank seemed to calm everything down, he thought as he ripped off the top of the nail on his left pointer finger. This nail was the only nail on that hand which had been spared so far. Everything was uncomfortably down the nub.

            Mikey noticed that it had become a habit for his brother, that he had such terribly brittle nails that he was starting to chew them instead of let them get in the way. “Eat. Food, yesterday,” he said, setting cereal on the table. He sighed, really wishing that he would pay more attention to taking care of himself.

            But then, that would take away from what he could do. And he was really helping himself as much as he could Gerard.

            Gerard looked down at what Mikey was making, over the paper that seemed to hold nothing for him.

            It was standard cereal, nothing special, nothing exceptionally interesting. Although, it was supposed to be really good for you.

            It wasn't particularly appetizing, but he knew that he had to eat something, too. He was getting light headed. He just wanted to fall away and die, but maybe he would have more energy if he actually ate something. He knew that he would, that was the logical thing.

            He had to keep moving if he didn't want to die and eating was moving that he just couldn't bring himself to do just yet.

            Maybe later, Gerard said to himself, turning back to the paper to scan for a job.

            Mikey walked forward to the cabinets to get a bowl. The dishes in the sink were growing and he was surprised to actually find one that was clean.

            He would have to do the dishes soon. He was even thinking about going to a class that afternoon. Lord knows that he was behind. And midterms were even coming up. He was going to try to be more productive. He wouldn't let anything that happened to them get to them.

            Gerard and he had to make sure that they bury this whole thing. Frank and Pete and even Ray had to be dug graves. They didn't want to remember any of this terrible time. At least Mikey didn't.

            He was kind of worried about going back to school, but he knew that that was just another thing he could throw himself into. That was just another thing he could occupy himself with. It would be better too, he couldn't do dishes forever.

            And school got him out of the house.

            He thought it was a good idea to study and study hard. Then he could be a better student and less sluggish. He was going to change himself. He was going to come out a better person from this.

            If he wanted to get out of this rut he was stuck in, he had to push himself out of it. He had to push himself out and never look back. And he of course, had to help Gerard out of it, too.

            They had to get through this; they had gotten through the first part. Now, it was just getting through the second one. The battle was half over, now it was just against them, really.

            He was dreading going back to school though.

            He sighed. He didn't want to think about them, he didn't want to think about all the nights he would need to study and grind just to get back on task. But hey, maybe it would take his mind off of all this and tire him out.

            He could really use something like that. He could really use something that would just set him straight off to sleep with no room for any bad thoughts.

            That was a thought; maybe if he worked himself to death there would be no more sitting around like this. He should probably even get a job. He could maybe get a job at the grocery store that Pete took him to. That was a cute little thing.

            But maybe it would hurt too much. Maybe it would bring up too many bad things.

            He was trying to get over this.

            So, maybe not that grocery store. But he would definitely look in town for one.

            If he got a job than maybe they wouldn't be so tight and Gerard could relax for a little while, lord knows he needed it.

            He could even get a part time job. That would make it even, right?

            Mikey would be sure to tell him at dinner time. Right now, he just needed to eat a little something.

            “No. I-I haven't really been hungry,” he starts, flipping the page, eyes scanning. He didn't have time for food. He didn't want any anyway.

            “Gee, you have to eat something. Sometime soon,” he said, sighing and putting his arms out for emphasis.

            Gerard didn't hear him, or at least he pretended not to.

            He was thinking, thinking about Frank. And getting him back, thinking about blood. Thinking about people he murdered. He bit his nails, further and further down.

            He used to never do it.

            He never used to murder people. He never used to have to hide this giant part of him.

            It was weird; Mikey didn't know this integral part of him. He didn't know anything about what happened. He didn't know anything about him or what he did now. He didn't know him like Frank knew him.

            Mikey used to know him better than anybody else. He missed his brother.

            But this was really for the best, he decided.

            He looked up at him, fixing his cereal and he realized that with all the love he had for his brother, he was a stranger. He was a stranger now, who had once been so well known.

            He missed Frank. He was always so familiar, knew every inch of Gerard, every nook and cranny, every bad thing. There was nothing to hide from Frank, there was nothing secret.

            He missed their little apartment. He missed the coziness. That was warm and golden. This place, he never realized how grey it was. He never realized how alien it was.

            It was once his home; he had once loved this place.

            Tears sprung to his eyes.

            Nothing would ever be the same. Not even the little things. He would never love this place again, because Frank was not next door.

            And he would never love himself, because Frank didn't love him. Frank wasn't near him anymore.

            Everything was off now. Everything was bad now. Gerard was bad, he was mediocre. Everything was better with Frank. Everything was only good when he was with Frank.

            He just wished he was normal. He just wished that they might have worked out because in some different universe Frank was never a killer and he was never bad. He just loved him and wanted to make him happy and live with him.

            In all his love for him, he wished he had never met him. He wished that he had spent the last month in this apartment, being happy and hanging out with his brother. The neighbor next door could have been a killer but because he never met him it would not matter.

            He wished Pete had come to visit the Frank that he was not acquainted with. He wished that Mikey had fallen in love with him.

            He wished that it had never played out like this and Ray was still alive. And he was single but happy.

            He wished that they were all okay and that they were still happy.

            He wished that Frank never fucked up his life and turned him into this unstable mess. He wished that Mikey was not twenty pounds thinner than when he last saw him a month before. He wished that he was not still losing weight.

            He tried to get his mind off of that. Those were dangerous thoughts when the sun had risen. He couldn't go comatose in the middle of the morning just because he thought of something minuscule. He couldn't cry at the table, Mikey would definitely notice if he did and then he would have to make up something to explain himself.         

            But he did yearn for everything to be okay.

            But he was not lucky enough to have that happen to him. He was not good enough to have that happen to him.

            He was lucky that Frank found him worthy to come in and fuck up his life. He should be grateful for that, at least.

            He had found love, whirlwind, wild love. And he had thrown it away.

            He tried to focus on other things, less wrenching matters. Like the way Mikey was eating cereal from weeks ago if Gerard was correct. That shit had to be bad. That shit had to be stale.

            He watched as his brother went for the milk, started pouring it into the sure to be stale cereal.

            Gerard wrinkled his nose, over the paper, at the cereal Mikey was preparing. He hadn't been hungry in weeks, it seemed. And it did not help that they had next to nothing to even consume. Their pantry was as bare as it was when they first moved in. That seemed like ages ago. Seemed like years ago.

            His appetite looked at the food more blankly than Gerard himself did. Even though his stomach grumbled, he did not want to eat anything.

            Gerard had never really liked cereal. He had always preferred making his breakfast, or even eating something microwavable.

            “Isn't that shit bad, Mikey?” the last time he remembered them having that kind of cereal was from before he was gone.

            “No, me and Pete went to the store a week ago,” he mumbled, his eyes now the downcast ones. He didn't like to think about it, didn't like to think about him. It hurt to think. Hurt to think about Pete and how calm and soft he always seemed to be.

            He had betrayed him. He had lied to him. He was out to hurt Mikey, and Gerard. He could not risk him.

            Pete had let them go without a second glance, anyway. He didn't care. He didn't love him. Of course he didn't. Mikey had to be stupid to think that he did.

            “Oh,” he said, blankly. He knew that he should drop the subject.

            “You should eat something,” Mikey said, taking a mouthful of the cereal, milk dribbling down his chin. He tried to focus on Gerard, and not think about Pete. His belly was crowding with thoughts of him, touching him and holding him. And laughing and smiling and fingertips on his.

            Mikey was going to be sick.

            Gerard ignored him. “Was Pete nice to you?”

            He always did kind of wonder, when he was with Frank in Portland and Pete was with Mikey, being a spy, if he was actually kind to him, if he was nice to him. Was he how he thought he was to Mikey? He must have been if he loved him. They must have had something amazing.

            He knew that Mikey did not really like questions about Pete, but he could not help but asking.

            He wondered if Pete and he were friends anymore, now that Frank was not there to be the functioning bridge between the two men. He wondered if he would ever show up in his life again.

            “He was a liar,” Mikey shook his head. Any appetite that he might have had was now gone.

            “But he loved you,” Gerard stared blankly ahead at his brother, having put down the paper. There were no jobs anyway.

            “He was a liar,” Mikey repeated again, shoving the bowl of cereal away. It sloshed gently in the blue bowl, not even three bites taken out of it. Whatever, it was good enough for today.

            Gerard bit his lip, knowing that he went too far. He should never have asked, never had said anything.

            They both knew to leave the past behind. His stomach rumbled and Mikey stood up, the silence already itching at his brain. His thoughts were moving too fast. He had to do something. He had to be something.

            He had spent three weeks cooped up with bad thoughts. He had to do something, anything.

            “Eat something. I'm going to class,” he told his brother, knocking the chair away from his path. He didn't quite care what he did now. He was a bit sour with him.

            Gerard stared after him, hands going to clutch at the sides of his chair for a moment. He looked to the bowl of cereal and pulled it forward after a moment. They were too broke to let it go to waste. And Mikey had wanted him to eat something. So he was compromising with this. There was a gnawing in his tummy anyway. He had to get around to eating, he was losing weight and all his clothes were starting to have wrinkles in them.

            He huddled around it, slowly spooning mouthfuls into his face, thinking and chewing.

            He turned the television on, the news showing his own face.

            He scoffed for a moment before deciding to watch. He knew that he needed information about this.

            And for a moment, he thought it odd that he didn't. Surely, Armani would come forward and talk to him about it soon.

            “Frank Iero, more commonly known as The Jay, had been terrorizing New Jersey for around two and a half years. Now, in custody, the man speaks out about the kidnapping of boyfriend, Gerard Way and the events leading up to it,” the woman says and Gerard crawls away from the bowl, enraptured by the television. Frankie, he was going to see Frankie.

            It felt like a dream. He was even thinking about pinching himself to see if it was real, to see if Frank was real.

            He almost got close enough to touch the screen as Frank came on. Gerard sat on the couch, enraptured. He still looked gorgeous. Bags under his eyes, similar to Gerard's, similar to Mikey's, but still beautiful. Still like the Frank he used to know.

            His eyes were far away, though, looking at everything, not seeing anything. He was so beautiful.

            Gerard flinched, remembering the way he looked in the dream, the way they both acted in the dream. He would not be able to shake that for some time. But he would not let this ruin seeing his lover.

            He soon focused on just his words, on the way his mouth moved. On the way he ached when he wanted him. He wanted him so badly. He was too far away.

            Gerard had been so close to him before. He had kissed him before. He had been so sweet.

            He was so caught up with the need to see him, hear him, and be near him. He had forgotten all the nice things he had known about him before, all the good things they had done, been. But it was all coming back to him. Like a high speed collision right to his brain.

            He remembered kissing him; he wanted to kiss him now, more than ever. He remembered the way his lips fit around his. The way he tasted, like fresh dew and warmth.

            His mind was racing and his body was tingling. He needed to touch him now. He needed to be near him.

            He tried to focus on his words, crumbling his forehead close to himself. He had to focus. He was beginning to forget his voice. He wanted to catalogue this all. Even if it ripped him apart. He had to do it for Frank.

            “Can you tell us about that first time that you got close to getting caught? That time you were in custody?” the man in the suit, sitting across from Frank asks. His hand moves and it is pinched like he is holding something. But Gerard does not focus on him. He focuses on Frank.

            “I-I killed somebody. Somebody really important,” his leg was bouncing under the table and he was jittery, “I killed an FBI agent under cover as a doctor. I had a cut on my hand and it was infected. So I go and it's normal. I had Gee with me, by the way. And near the end, when Gerard goes out to start the car, I snap. And I start hitting, and hitting him. And soon enough, he's dead. But Gerard comes back a few minutes later, for his keys. He had forgotten them, and he sees him.”

            Gerard had never seen Frank look like this before. He had never seen him worried, never seen him nervous. He had always been cool, collected. Even in times of struggle, he hadn't shown any time of self-doubt.

            It kind of scared Gerard, to see Frank like this. It sent him the signal, that maybe this as not just an obstacle. Maybe this was not just Gerard fucking up and having to find Frank again. Maybe it was something bigger than the both of them, and Frank was the only one to realize.

            Maybe Frank knew what was really happening. What he had to do. Gerard had no idea; he was not as intuitive as Frank about things. Frank knew what was going on. And Gerard was left fumbling. He was fucking this entire thing up.

            Obviously, it was his fault, Gerard was ruining this for him, and Gerard had ruined this all for him. He had never been caught like this before. Not until Gerard.

            Where was Frank anyway?

            He was worried about him. Was he okay? Was he doing okay? Or was he breaking apart like Gerard was? He looked like he was surviving; maybe it was just incarceration that seemed to be draining the life out of him.

            Gerard tries to listen to him go on, paying attention to the story. Even though he was there.

            “And this guy is lying on the floor, he's dead and it's pretty fucking gruesome. And Gerard starts crying. He had never seen a dead body before, bless the innocent bastard,” Frank thumbs his nose, setting his chin on his arm, resting the arm on the other one. He looks to the cameras, like he knows that they're all judging him. But he doesn’t care.

            Gerard thinks he has the most beautiful voice. Gerard thinks he is still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

            His heart seems to be squeezing in his chest. Maybe distance did make the heart grow fonder. Because if he was in love with him before, it was smothering him now. He was suffocating, light headed and murky feeling.

            “And I make him stuff the body in the closet with me,” he said, finishing by looking down at the table. He flips his hair out of his eyes. It had gotten longer since the last time they saw each other. Frank seemed thinner even, like his eyes are popping out of his head. Maybe they were just more piercing.

            Gerard takes a look at them, the same familiar color that his are. Although they look more paler than they had ever been before. Dimmer, somehow. They're bloodshot and he is avoiding everything, looking anywhere but anywhere. He knows Frank, and he knows that he's put off by this. He knows that he is ashamed.

            Gerard feels a weird feeling in his gut. This is the nervous Frank. The Frank that everyone else must see. He's jittery, but he's falsely laid back. This is his façade.

            This was the Frank that he had first met.

            Gerard wishes he could have his Frank back. Gerard wishes they were alone again, killing across the states, free as wild horses. He wants to hold him again. He’d die a thousand times to just fix it again.

            “What happened after that?” the man asks; cool, as if he were not sitting across from a murderer. As if he was not being told the story of how he kidnapped a man and killed a dozen others. His face barely changes, solemn and only moving to ask questions. Maybe he was trained to do this. Either way, Gerard thought it was eerie. He had his own façade, like Frank did. Everyone seemed to have their masks on today.

            Frank gets jumpier, moving and shifting about, even more. “Gerard's friend was actually a cop, Ray Toro-” he starts; voice calmer, more in the swing of such things. He was getting used to telling his story. It had happened in Gerard’s mind a million times. He was getting familiar with it, too.

            “The man that you killed when you kidnapped Mr. Way?” the man asks, ambivalent to the situation. Like he was asking clarification on how to do a math problem. Not asking Frank if he had killed this guy yet. Gerard could barely wrap his head around it.

            Gerard flinched at his name, remembering the darkest time of their journey. He missed Ray. He had barely thought about it in those past few weeks. But he missed him so much. Frank was sure to fill all the gaps in him, but now he was a sidewalk in shambles. And the only weeds to grow through didn’t have any flowers.

            Mikey missed Ray more. There was no reason for Ray to die to him. But Gee knew it was a means to an end. Till there was no more end in sight.

            But Gerard, he had had a reason for him to die. Even if it was not good enough to keep him from feeling guilty. But now that was gone, Frank was not in his arms and he was not in his.

            He was bad. Ray died in vain. It was all his fault. Everything was all his fault. He had done that to him. He shouldn't have let Frank do that to him.

            He had lured him into the trap, knowing that Frank was going to hurt him. And he didn't even feel remorse. Not when he was with Frank. Because Frank made every bad feeling go away.

            Now there was no Frank, there was no buffer. There was nothing. And he was nothing. He was nothing but bad.

            He curled in on himself on the couch, still watching Frank but feeling the ball of guilt grow in his stomach. He scrunched up his body, making him smaller.

            Frank was not making anything better anymore, not right now. He was just mocking him. He was just judging him.

            He felt his soul being whittled out from his very being. He felt, off, bad. Dirty.

            The Frank from his dreams laughed back at him, under his eyelids, in the curls of his lashes. He knew that he was bad. That he needed punishment. He was _wrong_ and disgusting. He would see him in his dreams. He would die again, in his dreams.

            He focused on the Frank on the screen and not the one that made his throat feel like closing up. He was tempted to feel at the bruises, just so he knew that it was over. That it was once a reality. But he refrained and listened to his words, watched his jittery body.

            “Yeah,” Frank said more quietly, looking back down at the tabletop. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then gulped. He opened them back up and started talking again. He regretted it. He regretted it like Gerard did.

            “Yeah. But anyway, he comes with his partner, interrogates us and then they leave. Right about then, we're not too in the hot. Gerard lied pretty well. But he was all distraught about it, hated the very thought of it,” he added about Gerard. He shook his head again, like he was ashamed, looking off into the distance before heaving a breath and continuing. It hurt him to talk about Gerard. He held himself together, hands on his bent elbows.

            Gerard could see his tattoos, the telltale signs of his fingers. They had held him before. They had tried to kill him before. He loved them, all the same. The spidery digits fit around his still tanned skin. He seemed paler, much too small.

            He loved Frank, all the same. Despite any changes, despite any actions. He wanted him. He needed him.

            Frank went on talking about what had happened to him. With the tweaks, obviously. He was still keeping Gerard an innocent in this matter. Gerard was thankful for that. He didn't need Mikey knowing that he was bad.

            “His brother, Mikey, was the one to tell, actually. He had overheard us talking. I was gonna kill the little bastard. But the pitiful bitch begged me not to. I suppose he was close with his brother and all,” he said. He said it with scorn, bitterness. He shrugged and looked away from the camera. He was doing that a lot.

            Gerard frowned at the name he had given the two brothers. He knew that Frank didn't like Mikey, but he loved him, right? He loved Gerard? Or was Frank pretending? Or was he being more honest than he had ever been before?

            He felt a little confused by all of this. His face felt hot and he thought about Frank, thought about forever.

            Gerard began to feel more self-conscious. Maybe he wouldn't go see Frank when he found out where he was. Maybe Frank didn't even want him to.

            Gerard saw the man flinch at his vulgar words. It was just a special on the news. He wondered if if it wasn't live, Frank would still get to swear like this.

            “And after a few days you were taken into custody?” the man asks. Gerard wonders what his name is, and if he will dream about this at night. If the flashes of blood will haunt his dreams like they haunted Gerard's.

            They don't occupy his dreams anymore because Frank is too busy being in them. He had had others, nicer ones. Ones that are memories of Frank, of his time with him. Dancing, and talking and touching. The night before was the first night where Gerard saw the side of Frank that their victims saw first-hand.

            “Yeah,” Frank licks his lips. Gerard knows he's thinking of the same things. He was thinking of blood and being free. He was thinking of what he would be doing if Gerard wasn't an asshole and hadn't ratted on Frank.

            Gerard remembered what it was like, minus Ray being murdered. What it was like to get Frank out of there.

            That had been a good moment, scary and heartbreaking. But they were free and he had Frank again. He loved him so much. Now that felt like a dream. It felt like someone else.

            Like it was a novel that Gerard had read but didn't quite remember.

            “Now, that's around the time that Gerard came to see you again?” the man inquires. Gerard wonders if he thinks that he's stupid. He wonders if he thinks that he's innocent. He wonders if that, under the collar, and behind his composure, he's squirming. His face is as blank as it ever was. He wonders if he is used to this kind of intimate carnage. And if he is, he wonders if it is just his job or if he is as sick and twisted as Gerard and Frank.

            “Yeah, closure or some bullshit. I don't know, he's an artist,” he shrugs and Gerard's heart warms. He's thinking about him, talking about him. Even if it was in a less than desirable way. He wonders what else passes his mind when he thinks about him. He wonders if he misses him.

            “And you took the weapon that he had with him?” he wonders, the same cool voice that he had used since the beginning.

            Gerard is sure it's been going on for some twenty minutes. He has sat enraptured for twenty minutes. His neck was starting to hurt. But he stared on, watching Frank and watching this man speaking, relaying things that he had already went through. Shit he already knew about. As if they were new to him, cool to him.

            He didn't care, he just wanted to see Frank. His voice sounded so sweet in his ears. He loved him so much. He loved him _so much._

            “Yup. Killed his friend when he started causing trouble. Chloroformed his ass and we were on our way to Portland,” he said, as if he was proud. He was.

            It was just that easy for them, for him. The break that they had made was a simple one.

            He wished this was as simple as that.

            But Gerard was still disturbed about his acting.

            Gerard felt sick to his stomach. Was this the real Frank? Or was this acting? Was this calm cool and collected serial killer Frank that everyone else thought he was?

            This was the Frank he had met in the hallway. This was the Frank that he had hated. And he wondered if he could ever hate him again now.

            He never could. He would never want to. Despite all the shit that he had put him through. He almost loved him more because of it. Everything else was fleeting, Frank was forever. They were meant to be forever.

            The man flinched again before asking the one question that even Gerard waited for with bated breath. He wondered what Frank was going to say. He wondered if he was still keeping up the facade that Gerard was innocent. “Was it true that you forced Gerard Way to kill innocents with you?”

            “Who says it isn't?” Frank inquires without answering the question just yet.

            “There are some people who think that he was your partner,” the man explains further. “So is it true that you forced him to kill?” he asks the question again, this time with more fervor.

            Everyone must be dying to know this. It would change the entire case if they found out about Gerard's real part in this.

            “Yeah, and Baby Boy would have been good, too, if it wasn't for the fact that he was a goddamn pansy,” he said, with a smile that Gerard had seen in the dream the night before. His lips were tight and razor sharp. The smile was quick and knowing and Gerard hated it.

            He had never seen him smile like that, not in real life. Was he losing Frank? Was he losing him?

            It haunted him. It was plastered on his mind for the few seconds that something else wasn't too pressing at hand. He was scared that he would go to see him and he would be changed.

            The man shivered and a look of disgust passed on his face, the most emotion Gerard had ever seen in this interview. “Mr. Iero, some speculate that since he was your boyfriend, you kidnapped him because you loved him. Or at least, during some duration of any of your relationships, you loved him. Did you love him?”

            Gerard waited, even more eager, forgetting even the hardening cement of the guilt. He would die if Frank said he didn't, fake or not. He swore to himself in that instant, he was sure to just kill himself if Frank didn't say yes.

            His eyes were wide and he waited, watching Frank. His breath caught in his throat, like a hangnail on yarn. His fingers flew to his mouth and he started to nervously chew at the nail, brittle and broken already.

            He didn't answer for a few moments but when he did he looked up to the man, away from him and to the camera for a split second, locking eyes with Gerard, like he knew out of the millions this would reach, he knew Gerard was one of them. “Yeah, I think I did,” he nodded his head, now looking down at the table.

            That was a signal. That was for Gerard to see. That was for Gerard to see.

            “And was he still in love with you?” the man asks with hesitance. His voice seemed to drop, the temperature of Gerard's bones cold.

            Frank laughed, long and fake and only to show the man how ridiculous it was. His head threw back and his hair spilled downward onto the air, hanging like a condemned man. Like his follicles were Frank themselves. “After all the shit I put him through?” he is still chuckling as he asks the question, rhetorical. Then he actually answers the one the man asks him. “No, I don't think the poor guy ever was.”

            He takes a swig of the water to his side. Gerard never noticed it was there and it is the first time that Frank uses it.

            His smile is similar to the one that Gerard does not like. It was tight and hurt and he looked like he was hiding pain.

            Gerard clenched his fist together, the one with the scar. It still kind of hurt, and reminded him of their time together. He needed to feel it. The blood in his veins was Frank's blood, the blood in his lover's, Gerard's. He knew that they were meant to be together. That they were even still together, despite the distance of the two. “Forever, Frankie. I love you, forever,” he said to him, biting his lip. The tears were starting to stream now, pain from the biting and pain from his fist, white knuckled and fervent. Pain from his soul, caving in. The canary in the coal mine hadn't gotten out.

            He had hope still, dashed away and built back up a few minutes apart from each other. He loved Frank with all his heart and he hoped to God that his lover knew it. He hoped that he could still feel it like Gerard could.

            He loved him so much. He loved him so much.

            He didn't notice the fact that it had left the air, cutting back to sitting around a round table and wearing high end but sensible clothing. All that he could focus on was Frankie. And the way he wished he could make him stop being so jittery.

            He shut it off after that, nothing that they would say was worthwhile. He was trying to figure out how he was going to get Frank back. How he was going to get him to understand that he still loved him. He was going to make him proud again. He just knew it.

           

            Mikey was sitting in class, listening to the teacher that he hadn't seen in quite some time. He was listening with rapt attention, everyone else distracted.  He didn't realize it was because of him. He didn't realize that it was because of him everyone was distracted till he was thinking about it on the way home.

            He would let them be distracted. He had shit to do.

            He understood what the teacher was saying, but he was a little bit rusty on it. It took some recollection. But he was going to get back into the swing of things soon enough. He was kind of glad, this first class he had gone to had been one of his stronger ones. He was sure if it was any other one, he would have been quite discouraged.

            As he was sitting in this class, taking notes and fretting over the stuff he had missed, Bob had sidled up to him, looking over his shoulder scornfully at the notes that he was taking. His face was sour at Mikey, at even the prospect of talking to him.

            Well, he always looked kind of scornful. But Mikey had left him hanging weeks before, so he was kind of bitter about it.

            “So, I heard that Gerard's home,” he said, staring at the notes that Mikey was frantically taking. He had to catch up. He had to. He was wholeheartedly throwing himself into it.

            Bob could have cared less.

            He looked up at the teacher, at the board and wrote more down. He replied under his breath, not even looking at him. He had better things to do. More important things to do. “Yeah, you and the rest of the fucking country who watches the goddamn news,” he licked his lips absentmindedly. His mouth was really dry, maybe it was because he was sitting like this for half an hour, perched on the edge of his seat just taking notes.

            He didn't look at Bob. He was still kind of cut up about what he had said about his brother, weeks before. He almost didn't remember it. But it was all coming back to him. Along with his own thoughts from the day before. He was just as bad as his friend.

            But he had gotten better, Bob just seemed like his pride was bruised. Mikey was glad that it was. Gerard was not bad like he had said he was. And he was figuring that out. Bob was _wrong_ and he relished in that fact.

            “Is he okay?” he asked, glancing at the teacher for a second before turning back with interest to Mikey. His hands were rubbing together, making the sound softly. It seemed to be a nervous habit. Kind of like his brother's new found

            Mikey furrowed his eyebrows more, concentrating on moving his hand faster and listening to him.

            Mikey was glad that he was decent enough to ask him, he figured as he wrote. He hadn't really talked to anyone in a while that was not Gerard or Pete. He had kind of missed this friend he had made out of necessity. It was pretty lonely now that Ray was dead. It was pretty lonely now that he was dead inside.

            He didn't like to say it, he didn't like to really notice it. Because it hurt him much more than it usually did. There was a hole in his heart that needed to be filled. There was a hole in his life that needed to be filled. And another person was the only way he could stop being so lonely.

            He used to have so many friends, or at least acquaintances. But now, he wasn't even sure if he was a part of that type of scene anymore.

            Maybe he could catch up with his friends, his old ones from the parties and the bands.  Lord knows that he needed it.

            Gerard didn't count as his friend and Pete wasn't even his enemy. He was just nothing. He was sure that he could consider Armani a friend, but they had nothing in common. Except for Ray and work.

            But maybe she was cool with him now. He had helped solve the toughest case of her career. That had to mean something.

            He shrugged and got on better topics in his mind. He paid attention to, and answered Bob's question. He was still doubled over his notes, writing in tiny scratches as frantically as possible, voice still soft and only just spilling out. “Well, he's not a murderer, so I suppose he's pretty fine.” Okay, so maybe he was much more bitter than he thought he was about this.

            “Look, I'm sorry about what I said,” he apologized in a gruff voice. He wasn't used to swallowing his pride. But Mikey was going to make him if he wanted to be anything like his friend again.

            Mikey wasn't sure they had actually stopped being friends. He inwardly frowned and his lip jutted out as he wrote down his current line. He wanted to finish before class was over. He moved a little faster and flourished the pen when he finished, clicking it off.

            Mikey sighed and put his things away as the teacher announced that it was time to leave. He had only just finished and his hand really hurt. He stuffed his pages of notes in his book sack and finally looked up at Bob, all judgmental eyes and raised brows.

            “Of course you are,” he said, sighing again and walking out of the room with the rest of the crowd.

            He didn't notice how everyone's eyes followed him as he left, curious to see the brother of the kidnapped guy. Curious to see the relation of whom they had only seen on news stories.

            Some were trying to even get the gall to ask him questions. He assumed this at least, because friends were nudging friends and whispering about him.

            He wasn't sure why he was so special. It wasn't like they stopped him to ask questions. That was all he was really good for in this instance. They just watched him leave, like all the secrets about the case he had were wrapped up in his clothes and the back of his neck.

            Their looks made his skin crawl and he hurried to his car, to the bitter air that was the winter. It chilled his face just as he reached the entrance.

            It was snowing now, what had once been crisp air was now harsh and biting. He did not mind, he was warm in his coat.

            He was warm in his confusion. He thought back to all his fellow students, teachers even, staring at him as he left, wondering about the secrets that he may have tucked away in the folds of his existence.

            He didn't have any secrets. Gerard didn't like to talk about the case. So, honestly, he knew about as much as the others did about this.

            He wished Gerard would talk to him, he thought as he started his car. The sound of the engine marked the sound of his inner frown.

            Gerard never talked about the case and although Mikey knew that it was a touchy subject, he wished he would at least divulge a little, even if it was in one of his nightly meltdowns. It would help Mikey understand his brother better. And it would help them bridge the gap between the two men again, Mikey thought.

            They had become too far apart. Mikey was honestly kind of afraid that he was losing his brother. That one day they would part ways and never see each other again. He couldn't lose him again. He was his best friend, secrets or no secrets.

            And he did not want to lose another friend. Especially not the one he had had the longest. He didn't know what he would do without him.

            He would probably turn into the person he had been when he was trying to get him back again. And that was not a pleasant thought.

            He wondered how Gerard was doing, all alone at home. He wondered if he had another breakdown in all the silence.

            He hoped he was okay. He hoped that he was not swallowing himself alive with thinking. Because Mikey knew how dangerous that could be.


	3. All for You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm thinking of propperly publishing this series. That would be cool.

Gerard was thinking. And they were dangerous thoughts. But they were not masochistic ones, no he was straying from the ones that he usually had. But it was still about the person that seemed to haunt his mind the most. He was thinking of Frank, the Frank that didn't make his throat close up, choking, smothering. No, he was thinking of the Frank that still loved him. He was thinking of death and the sweetness that type of destruction brought to his existence. The richness that was decimation of life seeped into his mind. He loved death, and he loved killing. He loved Frank. And he loved thinking of him, sealing his fate as never over him, never going to be over him. They were meant for each other, even if they were not right for each other.

Even though the television was off and it was later in the day, Gerard was still sat at the couch, fairly lifeless, converting all his energy into thought. He sat huddled in the blankets he never thought to get out of. They were warm, engulfing him in comfort. It was cold in the apartment and he didn’t feel the particular urge to do anything but think and sit. He liked just thinking. There was a lot left in his life that he had to wrap his head around. There was a lot to sort through about himself that had a lot to do with Frank. And even some to do with Mikey. This was what he usually thought about, even before the whole mess started, when Frank killed that man and they ran away. It was all the thoughts that he usually had, going round and round in circles. He did not mind. Even if it was just going in circles, it was circles of blood that he was dripping around. There was no more feeling bad about what he did, what he had done. He was the good guy. He was a good person. Who just happened to kill people.

And he thought about that as he sat, shifting just a little bit, (his foot had fallen asleep you see), all the bodies piled up like statues, like towers, like art. All the blood flowing. He loved the color that skin screamed out when he showed no mercy. He thought about all the people. All the people to kill in the coming days.

His blood sang with the thought of someone else’s running. He was a bad man. He was a very, very, bad man. And it all felt so _good_.

He smiled to himself, sitting alone on the couch. He was going to be wonderful soon, standing on the precipice of greatness. He was going to be amazing. And Frank was going to want him again. He would redeem himself again.

This was what Frank wanted him to be, had wanted to mold him into since they got together, he knew it. He wanted him to be his apprentice. Why else would they have done all this terrible shit? Gerard knew now, why Frank smothered him, thrust him into his world. He loved him, and wanted the best for him.

The light was streaming in through the windows. He was going to make something of himself. He was going to be good at being bad again. Or finally, seeing as he was always the one who did the kind thing in all the killings.

He felt a real sense of motivation today. Like he had ate his Wheaties and drank his orange juice, took the vitamins and went off to work. But no, it was much more sinister than that. A cheery killer he would be, doing his duty to help with population control with his lover. If Frank would have him back after what he did to him.

But he would not let himself think of that, he has to think of nice things, good things. Like the way Frank smiled at him before they killed.

Today was different; today was softer than any he had experienced in a while, better, there was a new sort of rejuvenation in him today. He felt different. And it wasn't even the fact that he had seen Frank today. It was just the fact that he knew what was going to happen. And no one else did. He knew a secret.

He wondered how many people he would pass, how many people he had passed that had thoughts like his, had secrets like his. How many people who had no clue of his thoughts, of his actions. It was somewhat intoxicating, knowing that you were akin to a God. Take a life, keep a secret.

He huddled in closer to himself with his thoughts, crowding around him. He felt odd. Like the air around him was pressing in. It was peculiar, like nothing had ever happened like it before. Like he had never been touched by this type of feeling before. Like he was wobbling on the edge of potential.

Today was just different than the other ones. And it was better, because he was not as sad today and thinking was not as dangerous. Nothing felt as dangerous except himself. His potential was a time bomb, a Molotov cocktail in a fabric warehouse.

So he settled in the couch and smiled to himself. He had a plan. He had an idea. And it would restore the order of things so completely that they were even better than they used to be. One that was sure to make him back to the person he used to be, or even better than whom he used to be. He would be the man that Frank wanted him to be. And Mikey wouldn’t be hurting anymore.

He wondered, very briefly, what the conversation would be when he told Mikey. If he ever told Mikey. It made him shudder, so he thought of nicer things. Thought of this plan of his.

He knew how to get Frank back. He knew how to make him understand that he still wanted him. It was easy; he had to do what he was born to do. What Frankie had taught him how to do so very long ago. So long ago that it really only felt like a dream, like a fantasy. But so did everything else that they had done together felt.

He was slipping away. But Gerard was not going to let that happen anymore. He was going to get him back. He was going to make him want him again.

His stomach felt queasy as he thought about him. As he thought about him, so far away, so out of reach. He only wanted to think of him when he was imagining him in his arms.

He had to kill somebody. He had to show Frank that he was up for the challenge again. He had let him down before, so he needed to show him that he was not what he thought he was. He was not a pansy. He was not a coward. He was going to kill and show Frank that he was not afraid of him, of what he was, what they were.

And he was not going to break down anymore. He was going to be strong like Frank. He was going to make him proud. He wasn't going to be guilty anymore. He wasn't going to think about what they could be if they were normal. He was going to think about what they were.

And right now that was away from each other. They needed to be closer. They needed to be together again. Gerard was going insane without his lover.

He needed to communicate with Frank, too. And he couldn't send a letter. Nothing could convey what he needed to in a letter. And even with just silly promises, Frank would not believe him. He had to do something that showed that he was serious about all of this. He had to send a statement.

He couldn't go visit, not yet. That was not potent enough. He would not be good enough for Frank to see yet. He was not worth of his attention, and he didn’t want to see him so far away but so near to touching. It would just discourage him further.

The only way that he could make it up to Frank was if he killed. He needed to carry on the legacy of The Jay because he had put the real one behind bars. It was the only way to make this all right again. Then everything would fall into place.

It was the only way to fulfill what Frank asked of him when they stood outside the door in Portland. It was the only way to be happy. The only way to be happy was to be near Frank, be a part of Frank like this.

He had to be good for Frank again. He had to make him love him again. Because even if he said he did on the television, he was afraid that if he let Frank down, he would stop loving him. And he couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let them fade away. He was the only person he had ever loved and he needed to be loved by him again.

The bruises would fade, just like Gerard was scared of doing, and he would let them. But Frank had to be forever if he was going to let them go.

He was beginning to welcome back the scar on his hand. That was something that would never fade. The cut was too deep for it to whiten and disappear. He pressed his fist together, it still hurt, a dull ache of what he remembered they were, just a week before, just a few days before. Oblivion had been so close, he wanted to die with Frank, he wanted him to be the only thing.

He shut his eyes and pressed harder into himself, nails digging into his palm with a sharp bite. He remembered Frank. The way his voice sounded, so close to his ear. The way the light streamed into their brains and turned it to fire. He needed him.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

Natalie became white against his eyelids. She was pure. And they had killed her.

What once made him feel sick had come back to motivate him. She was beautiful. And she was kind. But blood was the currency of madness. And Gerard wanted to be wealthy.

This was something that would get Frank back to him for sure. This was to make it up to him.

He didn't even feel guilty anymore. How could he, this was brilliant. His guilt could wait, Gerard was going to kill. Gerard was going to be as pure as Frank was.

Gerard fastened the blanket closer around his skin. He knew who he was going to kill that had the most meaning. He knew what would make Frank want him again.

That’s all he wanted. He wanted to be wanted.

He smiled, wide and sharp. Oh, yeah he knew who he was going to kill. It was an absolute no brainer. And it would definitely mean the most. Or at least he hoped it would. But he wouldn’t think about his doubts. He had too many of those for him to want anymore.

He was going to do it without any reservations. He was going to do what he was born to do. He was going to do what Frank taught him to do.

He was going to kill that man. He was going to kill the man that interviewed Frankie.

The thought made his blood laugh, warmth flooding into his stomach at the comforting thought. He thought fleetingly about all the times that he had watched blood flow and he saw the light flee from a victim’s eyes. He remembered how Frank looked, how beautiful he was.

Killing was the only thing that he wanted to do now. He knew that Frank wanted him to be a killer, and he wanted to prove to Frank that he could kill and he was good enough for him.

Then Frank would know that he saw, that he saw him, watched him. That he wanted him back and that he wanted to be good enough for him. He just wanted to be good enough for him. He would see that Gerard still loved him. And that he knew that Frank loved him. It was perfect.

It was perfect. Of course it was.

He felt that familiar rush of love whenever he thought about murder. Whenever he thought about his favorite kind of destruction he got that sense of jitteriness. It was like a high, but it was better. Because it was endorphins and adrenaline and Godliness mixed up all into one, volatile and dangerous and oh so addictive.

God, murder was in his bones. In his brain. He was a natural. He loved it. He had no idea why he had never discovered this part of himself earlier. Why it had taken Frank to bring it out of him.

He was excited for this. Excited to get Frank back. As  well as get back into his favorite past time.

He needed him. And he was going to get him. He was going to get him doing the thing that he did best. That they did best.

They were meant to murder together. Didn’t Frank see that? Didn’t Frank see that they were made for each other?

Gerard felt his bones tingle with the prospect of doing his favorite thing, for his favorite person. He hadn’t appreciated killing enough when Frank was just teaching him but oh, now he knew. Now he was sure that he was ready for Frank again.

He smiled against himself, curling the blanket in on himself yet again. His heart beat faster at the thought of touching his lover again, the thought of feeling his skin and staring into his eyes. He could only remember so much.

He was going to be free. He was going to be with Frank again. He was going to be wanted again. He just wanted to be wanted.

His heart jumped into his throat. He could not wait to murder.

  
  


Mikey got home, opening the door to their apartment. He was kind of worried about what he would see. If he would see Gerard, slit wrist or pill bottle next to him. He still didn’t like leaving him alone and was apprehensive to what he might find.

But there was nothing, there was just his brother, fallen against the couch, staring off into the distance. His eyes were glazed over and he was smiling. It was a slightly bit unsettling, and Mikey wondered fleetingly if he had cracked, but the smile was too happy, filled to the brim with innocent joy. He knew that he was alright.

He was the happiest that Mikey had ever seen him since getting him back home. He was kind of surprised that he was seeing him now, like this, happy and smiling, like he was remembering something good That he was quite the opposite of what he had expected.

It was kind of unsettling, the way he looked. Because he did not move right away to see Mikey coming through, like he was dead and just sitting like that, the smile on his face like he knew something no one else did.

“Hey, Gee,” he said, taking off his coat and gloves, throwing his keys on the coffee table. He looked to his brother, small smile on his own face.

As kind of creepy as it was, he was glad to see Gerard happy. He was glad to see Gerard moving on like he was.

Gerard snapped out of it and looked to his brother, surprised to see him standing there. He emitted a little gasp, looking with wide eyes to Mikey. “Oh! Hey, Mikes,” he said, snapping out of the little trance he was in. He smiled at his brother, the same one he was giving to the wall, this time it was wider and more fixed.

Mikey smiled back and sat down next to the swaddled Gerard. He glanced at the television. It was off, glossy black and shades of gray reflecting off.

“Anything good on TV?” he asked him, fishing the remote from the coffee table. He wondered how long he had been sitting and just thinking and how long he might have been if Mikey hadn’t interrupted him.

He turned it on, flipping his hair out of his mind and placing one arm lazily on the back of the couch. It was still on the news channel that Gerard saw that morning. But by now it was playing soap operas.

He flipped through the television guide for a few moments in silence. He was grateful that the silence was not of the awkward variety he was ever so scarred of having anymore. He had enough of that to last a whole lifetime with Pete. But he wasn’t going to think of that. Push it down, push it down.

He changed it to a movie they had already watched, but fairly enjoyed. He settled in next to Gerard and Gee wedged his feet under his butt, just like old times.

He sat back further, idly asking Gerard how his day was and what he did.

Gerard smiled and went on about some average stuff. But it was not so average for the two brothers, of course, who had just marked today as one of their more productive ones yet. And all they had done was get out of bed and smiled.

Maybe things were looking up for them. Gerard certainly knew that they were.

  
  


The next morning, Gerard was up at around nine, the air still crisp with that unstirred feeling. Like it was still permeating the cool of the morning. He didn't mean to be, he just couldn't sleep after the dream he had of Frank and of the plans that he had for his favorite hobby. It taunted him whenever his eyelids dropped, the nightmare, not the plan. The plan was the thing that kept him up that night, not letting him sleep till after midnight. The bad dream just woke him up too early. He didn’t want to remember a Frank that hated him. Or even a Frank that loved him. Because his dream was cruel and when he woke up, he still didn’t have him. And that hurt more than dying. And he had to go through it every night.

It wasn't one of the bad ones, but, in hindsight, all of them were bad. All of them were just reminders of what he had ruined. And what he was about to get back.

This one was just of a picnic they had had, just of them, together, touching and kissing and bright. Something that even when he had Frank he wished that they could have.

He didn't cry after this one. He didn't feel bitter about it. Because he knew that he was going to get Frank back, and soon. This was just motivation to be better, to kill more. He was sure that Frank would not just accept one. The bodies had to keep coming.

So he got up at nine, and ate some of that cereal that Mikey had had the day before.

He didn't mind being a little bit thinner, but honestly; it was nice to want to eat again. He hadn't really felt hungry in days. He was sure that Frank (if he was glad to see him) would be glad to see that he was eating. He had wanted him to be happy, and Gerard didn’t want to let him down by letting himself go.

He was eating the cereal as Mikey came in, up at just around the same time that he was, and tousled hair and a clueless, happy smile, like he wasn’t quite sure what was so great about everything.

No, he had no idea of what Gerard was going to do. What Gerard was. Who he was. What was going to happen when everything fell back into place.

Gerard hoped that they would stay okay. But it was highly unlikely. The more tangible line of thought was hoping that Pete would be able to help him and pick up the pieces, acting as a moderator as he usually was.

He looked surprised to see him. “Oh, hey, Gee,” he said, taken aback a little. He had come in fixing the cuffs on a shirt. It wasn’t the one he went to sleep in, so he must have gotten dressed.

“Morning, Mikey,” he said, swallowing and smiling widely at his brother.   Today was a good day, today was the best day. Today was the day he was going to kill that man, and Frank was going to know it soon enough. He was just in his reach he could nearly taste it.

He almost shouted right then and there at the happiness that he was to encounter. He always liked the calm before the storm. He always liked the calm he felt after it. But there was a frenzy in his stomach today. There were butterflies beating themselves to death in his stomach.

He had spaced out after Mikey snapped his fingers in his face. He looked at him with furrowed brows.

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. “What were you saying?” he asked him.

“I was asking you if you had a good night's sleep. Obviously, you did, you're still stuck in dreamland,” Mikey said, stealing the cereal box from Gerard, grabbing the milk from the fridge. He looked at his brother with worry.

Gerard shrugged and blushed. He had no idea.

“Yeah, actually,” he said, taking another bite. “First time in a long time,” he realized, furrowing his eyebrows as he took another bite. This was a bit of a lie, since he was plagued by bits of fitfulness. But the sleep he did get was good, one of the very rare good dreams.

He was full, but he was still gonna finish it. He didn't want it to go to waste. They honestly couldn’t afford it.

Today he was still worried about getting a job, but he was calmer about it. Everything seemed to focus, even at the thought of killing. It was his true calling, but he would do something that paid the bills. He would make everything fall into place.

He would do something that he didn't love nearly as much to make sure his brother was okay, since he was still going to school.

“That's good. And I see you're actually eating,” Mikey said, pouring himself cereal into a bowl. He smiled at his brother with affection, glad to see that he was doing better to function as a normal human being.

“Yeah. I think I'm going to apply to some jobs this afternoon,” he said, shrugging into himself. It was about time that he got out of the house. He had barely even seen the sunlight in the week since he had been home.

“That's good. I got another class today. So I suppose we'll both be out,” Mikey took the first bite of his cereal, plopping down across from Gerard at the table.

The brothers stared at each other in intervals of eating, the silence not uncommon in the house. This time it was more comforting, less sinister. It was comforting, normal.

Gerard missed this, and he didn’t even know. When he was with Frank, well, he was with Frank. And everything fell away in favor of him, but now there was something that Gerard valued in something else.

He was going to miss this. He was sure that he and Frank would have to flee again, but truth be told he never thought about it.

They finished their breakfast and parted ways, each brother just as happy as he was yesterday.

  
  


Gerard ventured into town, looking at any wanted sign on a building. But he was not in there primarily for this. He knew that he had to get a job and soon but he was looking for his victim, or at least starting to follow him around.

He was going to track down that man. He had to find out all about him. It was the only way he could kill him. Frank had never gotten caught before him so there was no need to be careful. But Gerard had to be, he already had people breathing down his neck. He wondered if anyone he would see today would pity him, or would even recognize him. He had been on the news, Frank had had, too.

He saw the victim’s car out of his peripheral as he was walking.

He had learned his name the night before, doing some searching on his laptop. He had also gauged what kind of person he was, how he had been part of his local news for several years.

It was kind of weird, because he had seen him on the news before. He could have never imagined that he was going to kill him when he was putting on his shoes in the 8th grade, getting ready for school. If you told Gerard that he was going to kill this guy to make his lover want him again he would probably have not believed you.

But he was going to do just that today. He had to kill that man today.

He felt another rush in his bones at the fact he was really going to do this. That this was the reality of his life now. He had no idea how he had gone so long without Frank to teach him how to truly live.

He loved Frank and he loved the way he made him feel. He was glad that he knew how to get him back.

He just hoped that this time it worked, and that Frank really was going to come back to him. He needed him.

He gulped back fear and watched the man get his coffee for the morning from the shadows, watching him as he smiled at the barista and handed over his

His name was Roger Bettinfield and this was the first thing he did after getting his first break. Gerard watched him carefully, like he was in a cop show. He had fished out binoculars from the closet, feeling a bit ridiculous.

But he had never done this before without Frank, so he was extremely wary about this. And he had all this extra hesitation about it. But he was still excited. This was a new kind of kill.

He had never done it to a deliberate victim before. It was usually just a convenience kill. There was never much of a complete science to this sort of shit.

So he was being wary. This was all different to him.

The man passed without a problem, coming out of the cafe and smiling at people. He was a bright man, it seemed. But maybe that was just the compulsion from his job.

Gerard got out of the car, eyes down and following him, his feet, his suit. He had to learn this route. He had to see where he was going.

He was going by what he had learned from fucking movies. He didn't know if this shit even worked. He felt a little ridiculous, but he still continued to follow him.

The man turned into a dark alleyway and Gerard followed, feeling the knife that was close to him, cold through the fabric of his pants. Gerard slinked after him, afraid of what he was going to do.

“Alright, kid. You caught me. So I do this in secret. Did your friends tell you?” he asked, throwing his hands up and turning to Gerard.

He slunk in, sure that he couldn't see his face in the dingy alleyway, cold and uncomfortable. The brick was covered with garbage and graffiti. He had no fucking clue what he was talking about.

“What?” Gerard asked, trying to mask his own voice. He didn't know how well known he was by these people. He wasn’t sure what Roger was getting on about.

“Don't make me say it,” the weather man says and Gerard can tell he is blushing. He is still confused as to what he was talking about.

He doesn't say anything in reply and the man starts undoing his belt after a few seconds. “How much for a blow job?” he asks him.

Gerard's mind screams at him that this dude is totally a closeted homo and he could use this to his advantage. “Twenty-five,” he says immediately. That wasn't too much to ask for, was it? He wasn’t too sure about these kinds of things. Wow, this was weird.

“Alright. You must be new at this. Cheaper than the other's rates,” he comments and drops his pants. He is not smiling anymore and Gerard can see him for who he really is. Not the person behind the desk.

Alright, well at least it wasn’t too much. He would get twenty-five bucks and this guy’s vulnerability. This was easier than he thought it would be. He would suck a little dick and stab him. Now, this wouldn’t be too hard for him to do.

Gerard gets on his knees and shuffles towards the man. He gulps and he isn't sure if he should just stab him now or if he should wait till he was truly unsuspecting. It would be easier if he did that, really knocked him off his feet.

He thinks of Frank and he closes his eyes, taking him in his mouth. He could do this. He would do this to get Frank back. God, this was so fucking weird.

He takes him in, hot and a different taste than Frank. He tastes cleaner, almost, like less. Like everything was less. Frank was more of everything. Even if this man was bigger than him.

The man throws back his head, and Gerard cannot believe that he is doing this. He puts his hands behind his back, grabbing for the knife and he knows that this is the best time to strike. Roger writhes under him, holding him close.

His fingers weave into his hair and he feels a tug that is strangely foreign, like it was something Gerard remembered from a dream years ago but can’t quite place now. It was alien because it wasn’t Frank.

While Roger Bettinfield, closeted homo, takes another moan, fucking Gerard's mouth, he stabs him, anywhere that he can. Anywhere he could get when he was on his knees, taking his girth in his mouth at an awkward angle, his arm swinging into his flesh at the other one

He gasps and lets go, not even registering the next stab to his body that Gerard hits him with. It’s like he is just falling and he doesn’t even feel it. His face is blank, eyes and mouth wide.

He is coughing now, knees buckling, dick out and Gerard pulling off of him like he was a cancer. He was because he was not Frank. He only ever wanted Frank to touch him like that. He felt dirty.

He wiped around his mouth, disgusted with all this. He stabs him again, just to make sure that he was truly dead, or at least dying.

He wonders if he could get caught by his spit on him as he watches him on the ground. So he makes sure that he's dead and then goes and cleans off whatever gunk that the dude had on him that could incriminate Gerard. He feels a little weird doing all this. He has never tried to clean a crime scene or cover his tracks because in all cases he had just fled. Everything was different now, he was his own killer now.

It was a little gross but he obviously doesn't want to take any risks with it, making sure to get everything off of his body.

He sits next to the man, pitiful and pants down. He wonders how others would feel when they found him. He wants to laugh at him, but first he's got to let the high kick in. Because right now he just feels empty.

It takes a while, to settle into him. Death was a hard subject to master. Such a hard tool to wield.

He huffs a breath and he wipes his hand on his sleeve. He can't get the taste out of his mouth. But he doesn’t really bother with it. He just forgets it. But he can’t forget about the thing that is usually happening to him. He can't get Frank from behind his eyes. He would be ashamed of him. Frank would never have to humiliate himself to kill. Never have to degrade himself, he was that good. He was so good. So much better than Gerard ever will be. They were both born to kill, but Frank had been killing longer.

He smiled to himself a moment later, finally laughing at how the man looked. There was the high. The adrenaline, the endorphins that hit his head, making it swim like the blood into the gutters. He loved this. He wiped his mouth again, staring at the glassiness in his eyes.

His head lolled back to look at the nice forget me not blue sky and he grabbed a cigarette, taking his grand old time just sitting there. The bricks were a little damp against his back, grimy and slimy.

He wanted to do something else, make this art. Killing was an art.

He took the knife in hand and opened the man's shirt, getting to his chest, thoughtfully wielding his knife in hand, into the man’s skin.

He smoked as he worked at it, chuckling to himself. He thought of how much Frank was going to love this.

He wasn't even sure if Frank was going to see this, but if he did, he would understand what Gerard was trying to communicate.

The words that he wrote on his chest were sloppy at best, bleeding and raw, but still legible. Roger lay agasp, still stuck in the look of surprise.

Gerard laughed harder, lips tight around the cigarette, muffling the expression. “Killed while getting a blow job. Ain't that something.” He smiled wider, knowing Frank would have been proud of him.

He looked at the words he had carved onto him. They had stopped bleeding pretty quickly. The red in the letters were a nice touch, it popped out more.

“Wish you were here,” he muttered under his breath, looking over his work. He took a drag of his cigarette, moving from his squat back down to sitting.

It was good enough for now. Frank would get a laugh out of this one, just like Gerard did.

He forgot to write the lettering on him. But maybe he could just etch that in.

He sighed, getting back up from his spot to put a quick 'j' next to the phrase. He didn't quite want to move. It was like Frank after sex, smoking and laying still, just thinking.

He liked to think about his lover in those calm moments. The moments where everything wasn't going to shit and they were just having fun. He loved Frank. He loved Frank so God damn much it hurt. But he would see this. He would see this and he would know that this was for him. That everything Gerard did was for him.

Gee fished his wallet out of his pants with a frown. He had kind of sucked his dick. He supposed he could take his money, whatever cash amount he had. He was poor, a little cash wouldn’t hurt. He was dead, he wouldn’t mind.

Turns out, he had a fifty and a picture of his kids. Gerard tried not to look at that item. He would leave feeling bad to the night. He supposed he deserved it, living a closeted life. But Gerard thought no one deserved to die, that would be hypocritical of him.

He examined his shirt, not even a blood stain on it. He was pretty lucky for that. Daytime murder was risky, especially if people could pass by anytime. He didn’t want to ask for a form to fill out to get a job and have to tell him there was a fuck ton of ketchup on his fucking shirt. It would be too hard to hide.

But he didn't mind, he was sure that he would just have to get out of there soon, before he got the heebie jeebies from the body. Before his high wore off and he was just left a little disgusted with himself.

The open mouth look of horror was beginning to be less funny as Gerard stared at it longer. The joke had worn off and wasn’t funny anymore.

He brushed off his knees, dirty with the alleyway's natural utterance. He walked out of the alley, no one passing by, no one seeing anything. He was his own secret.

He thought about it as he went home, smoking his cigarette, watching the people go by. They would think that this was some crazy mugging. Well, or a Jay wannabe.

They had actually got a few of those over the years.

It was weird to think about Frank doing this before he met Gerard. Gee knew Frank before they really knew each other. It was an odd thing to think about.

Gerard scanned the crowds, walking the few blocks it would take him to get to his car. He smoked still, hand in his pocket.

These people didn't know that he had just killed a man he saw on television everyday. These people didn't know that he had killed so many others.

Maybe this was how Frank felt all the time. This was how Frank felt whenever he walked. He was hiding a secret with themselves. They both were, now. And Gerard really saw the public differently when this danger was right under their noses.

Now, he had decided that he was on to finding a job. Or at least looking around for one before he went back to work at his old job.

He passed a few places, stopping in one. He would be sure to tell Mikey about that when they got home. He was going to be pretty happy about this. He knew that they were in the shitter when it came to cash. At least Gerard had that fifty.

He drove around, walked a little bit, and reminded himself that the mighty fell. He didn’t want to get a big head. And that he really needed to keep himself in check unless he wanted to turn into some fucked up megalomaniac.

Mikey himself was walking home, up the steps and into the house that was still absent of it's owners.

He climbed up the stairs, dark and kind of spooky, wondering if Gerard was home. And if he was, if he had any news of his outing.

He hoped that he had gotten a job, that he had at least a prospect of things getting back to normal. But he wasn't going to sweat it. He wasn't going to let Gerard stress it.

They had enough to deal with, they had enough to focus on. They were just going to get over their life getting fucked up.

He unlocked the door and let himself inside, studying the apartment for the moment before assuming that Gerard was not in either the living room or kitchen.

“Gee?” he asked, setting down his books and keys.

There was no answer so Mikey assumed that Gerard was still out. That was okay, it was only three in the afternoon. He could wait for Gerard.

He went to his bedroom, sitting down to get started on the paper they were assigned in his creative writing class.

  
  


Gerard came home a little while later, heart in his throat. Mikey would see that he was dirty, that he was bad.

The guilt was starting to get to him. But only when he mixed the murder with his brother. He was worried that Mikey would be able to see something that he couldn't. That no one else could.

But he called him out anyway, clutching the application to the bookstore that needed some help. He hoped that he appealed to them.

“Mikey!” he said. He tried to ignore the wobbling of his breath and he hoped that Mikey did, too.

He could do this. He had done it before. He had done it for so long. His palms were sweaty.

He wiped them on his clothes as his brother came out. He was completely unassuming. His face was a blank sort of interested.

Gerard felt dirty, but he ignored it. Gerard felt bad, but he just continued to push it down. “Well, um, I got an application for a job,” Gerard said, pointing to the white paper that lay on their kitchen table. The words squiggled around at him, too far away to read what it said again.

He took off his coat and started looking for a snack, famished from all the walking he seemed to do.

Mikey smiled wide at him, seeing the prospect of picking up their lives. Today was much better, drastically better for these two than what was going on just a few days before.

“That’s great, Gee! What’s it for?” he asks. His smile is goofy and wide, sloppy on his face. He doesn’t notice anything about Gerard.

He wonders what would happen if he found out. He answers slowly, taking another glance at the sheet. “Um, I’m pretty sure it’s just a bookstore job,” he says with a smile to his brother.

He can’t believe how calm he is about this, lying right to his brother’s face like this. He was pretty sure he had never done this before. Or as long as now, at least.

“That’s good,” Mikey says, smiling at his brother wider.

 

Frank sat in his cell. Day after day. Like he was told he had to. But there were meals, and there was the thirty minutes he got to go outside. And there was the option to go into the rec room, but he didn’t like being stared at. So he stayed in most of the time, tied up around in his cell by himself, crisp orange jumpsuit, and bare surroundings. He wondered if Pete could get him a picture of Gerard. As if he wasn’t already behind his lids constantly.

But he would still inquire, it gave him something to look forward to, gave him something to think about for the next few days.

He wondered if he would go to the rec room soon. Maybe he could read his book. That was the only time he felt sort of normal, like maybe he was just sitting around rather than imprisoned.

But even during those times he was still locked up. He was still away from the only thing that mattered.

He felt so stupid for leaving him. He wanted to be valiant. But now he knew that that was just stupidity. He knew that Gerard needed him, more or less. And he needed Gerard.

He was worrying himself to death, thinking about Gerard and what he might have done. Who he became in the last few weeks. He wondered how he was sleeping, if he was sleeping well. He wondered if he was eating healthy, or even speaking. He wondered if he made the right decision to leave him, chew him up and spit him out. He wondered if that was what Gerard thought he had done.

He didn’t mean to have this impact; it was supposed to be something simple, something nothing. It wasn’t supposed to escalate to this. But it had, and for a while Frank was the happiest he had ever been. Till he had ruined everything like he always did.

Maybe it was for the best, maybe he had done it for his own good. He would surely be dead if they ran away again, Frank was messing with fire when it came to that, and Gerard was just along for the ride.

But not anymore. He couldn’t do that to him. No matter how much he wanted to. He couldn’t keep tossing him around like this. He had to make a decision and his decision was to stay away. He had to stick to that, it wouldn’t be fair to each of them if he didn’t keep that up. There had already been too much fucking around. Frank had to quit Gerard if he wanted him to actually get a chance to live his life out.

He wanted Gerard to stay alive, which he would never get to do when he was with Frank. He wanted him to be okay. He just wanted to see if he was okay.

He closed his eyes and laid back. It was dark, being nighttime. He saw Gerard. He only ever saw Gerard.

He made it more difficult to stay locked up here. But he also made it easier. Easier to know what he was going through hell for. Gerard was safe without him. He was okay. He was going to be okay. Or at least, that was what he told himself so he wouldn’t go on a rampage and try to kill everyone here.

He pushed his thumbs into his eyes, seeing Gerard’s face behind his eyes, seeing his face turn to the one he saw when he raised the pillow, when he was betrayed. When his eyes were wide with tears, staring at him with fear and a mix of dirty hatred. A look he had never seen on Gerard’s face before.

He was unclean. He was so unclean. He was so bad, why would he do that to Gerard? He was truly going to kill him if he hadn’t chickened out at last minute.

That was always what he was going to do. He was probably going to try to get out of here and see Gerard again, get him back again.

He didn’t want Gerard to ever see him again. He didn’t want to ever be looked upon again. He was unworthy.

He was unworthy of his love, of even his glance. He didn’t ever want to put Gerard through what he did again.

He was too good for him. Gerard was too good for anything but angelicalness. This world was just something that he let himself be touched by. Nothing was worthy of him.

Frank found himself wondering. Why did he fuck it up? Why did he try to kill him? He’s come to the conclusion that it was because he was too good.

He saw him again in his eyes, gasping for breath and running down the hallway away from him. He had burned their relationship in a few minutes.

He remembered the way his body felt that night pressed against his own. He was so calm and soft and unassuming, pale in the moonlight and peaceful in his sleep.

He let his thumbs stop pressing in when he saw the Technicolor static behind his lids start to swirl into the black. Gerard was still there, but he was trying to let him be. He was going to let him be. It was the only thing that he could do.

He remembered everything about him in hyper detail, the way his eyes lit up after they kissed, the curve of his cheeks into his smile. The way he looked when he was crying. Everything about him was so good, so pure. He was a masterpiece.

And Frank had tried to burn him.

  
  


Frank sat by himself in the rec room, a wide girth around his entire being, some people awkwardly glancing at him every now and again. No one really messed with him, even though he was smaller than a lot of people there. He was still considered dangerous to them. They were thieves, robbers, some killers, but never to his magnitude. Never as prolific as him.

This led him to wonder if he would ever kill again. If he wanted to kill again. He couldn’t do it here. He didn’t want to at least. Did that say something about him? Something about the criminal institution. Or maybe he had changed because of what he did to Gerard, but that can’t be true because he had killed another person with Gerard before he let him go.

He tried to think that he could be able to be a good person.

He read his book like he always did and enjoyed the silence. This was one of the only times of the day where he enjoyed being with his thoughts, because there was always someone else’s voice to keep away the bad ones.

There was a knot of people watching the television, several feet away from his little table. He glances at them when he finds them watching him, their eyes digging dirty fingers in his head, burning into his hair.

His book remains in his hands as his eyes trail around their bodies. He doesn’t understand why they’re watching him. “What?” he murmurs, eyes flicking back to the page.

They hear him from across the room, where he was sat and they were, turned around and ogling him, fear crippling much of a direct look. He briefly wondered what they were in prison for.

One of the more brave ones spoke up. “You’re on television,” he says in awe.

“Murder usually gets publicized,” he speaks back, eyes flicking up from the page.

“Well, I mean, your boyfriend is, too,” he says, withering in his gaze.

Frank has changed since he went to prison. He got more piercing. He got quieter, more brooding. Nothing really went that way when he was with Gerard. He was not himself anymore. And he never really felt anymore.

But when Gerard was mentioned by this guy, his eyes flicked to the television. There it was, the news reporter next to a picture of his baby. Feelings that he hadn’t had in weeks stirred inside of him. It was the sickening sweetness of hope. He bit it back.

The men must have sensed that he was in a moment, and turned around to look at the television themselves, leaving Frank to be like everyone always did.

He watched what the news reporter said, never taking his eyes off of Gerard.

“Gerard Way, the young man kidnapped by The Jay has not been able to be reached about this new copycat murder,” she says in a smooth voice.

Frank wonders what exactly she is talking about till she continues on after a seamless pause. “One of our very own here at FIGW was found murdered last night in an ally. Further details have been withheld from the public at request of the family. We do know that money was stolen and etched into his chest was the term, ‘wish you were here’. More news on the way. Back to you, Chet,” she says and the screen cuts to something he doesn’t care about.

He is in awe, eyes going back to his book, but the words keep swimming and his head feels inflated with the stares of everyone around him. The CO is looking at him like he might do something.

He can’t stand to feel everyone’s eyes on him. So he walks back to his cell like nothing is really wrong.

A copycat murderer. Someone that was posing as him. This was not anything out of the usual. A few times that had sprung up in his career, but he didn’t worry much, but pitied the person who didn’t have the strength to be their own killer.

He continued to think about this as he walked back to his cell, hands in his oversized pockets. He didn’t know what Gerard thought about it now.

He didn’t know anything about Gerard anymore. He didn’t even know him. He was a stranger.

He looked at the scar on his hand, a potent pink that reminded him of a past life. His life with Gerard.

He sat on his bed and put his head in his hands. He just had to remember the look on his face. He never wanted to see Frank again. He wanted to get away from him. He was afraid of him.

Frank hated himself. He wished this all was over. That maybe he could be normal. That maybe, just maybe he could have been sane. Then he could have fallen in love with Gerard like a normal person. And they would never be in this mess and they would be happy.

He saw him, in his dreams. He saw Gerard whenever his eyes closed. He felt the ghost of him on his skin. Like a phantom, cascading into his mind.

He was doing this for him. He was going through hell for him. He didn’t ever want him to be caught in the crossfire of his madness.

Gerard was everything. And he was going to continue to be everything, living.

He just had to make sure he was okay.

He made a mental note to talk to Pete when he visited to check up on the Way brothers. He knew he had been wanting to see Mikey.

He felt a little bad for making him choose sides, but honestly, it was Mikey that was really the one to think that it was a big boundary. He hoped that Pete could make it through. He didn’t deserve all the pressure he was under.

He turned over on his side in the little chamber, the bed uncomfortable and stale feeling. But the bed didn’t matter. Anything paled in comparison to Gerard’s arms.

It was hard to think about him, about what they could have been. So he didn’t. He pushed the feelings, thoughts, the existence of his only joy. It only hurt to think about him.

But he still allowed himself to think about how he was doing.

He wondered if he was sleeping right, if he stayed up thinking about him, if he dreamt about him. Frank does.

Gerard was all he thought about. Gerard was the only thing that he even dreamed about. He captured his entire being.

He reminded himself, yet again, that he was doing this for Gerard. That he was stuck here, away from his darling, because and for Gerard. And he says because, not to be bitter, but to show that he was pushed, by his own conscience, to do this for Gerard.

He was doing everything for Gerard.

 

 


	4. Possiblities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my computer is fucked, the screen broke, but never fear I have a temporary fix in hooking it up to my television. I hope to get a chapter up next week, it is Thanksgiving break so I will have some time on my hands. I hope to get in a long chapter then, sorry for the wait and the subpar work. I've been a little stressed out.

Gerard was on the news today. Frank watched in the back of the rec room, head craning over his book. He wasn’t really reading it anyway.

People were watching him watch the screen, guards eying him with damage control on standby. He knew that he was dangerous. They worried that he would do something. Everyone was looking at him, watching him with wide eyes. He was becoming a spectacle, who was he kidding, he already was.. But he did not care in that moment, he was looking at his baby. He was looking at his lover.

He missed him. That was obvious. He missed him so much his heart ached. He didn’t look any different than what Frank used to know of him. He looked a little tired, a little jumpy. Nothing too off. Frank was glad to see that Gerard was doing fairly well for himself. He worried that he would slip, do something, lose something. He was happy to see him so happy. He was what he lived for.

She smiles at Gerard and crosses her legs. She looks a little antsy. Frank could bet, interviewing Gerard when he had affiliation with Roger Bettinfield’s murder, even if he didn’t do anything. She knew that she could be next by whoever was doing this. It wasn’t a coincidence.

“Hell, Mr. Way,” she says with a bright yet jittery smile.

“Hi,” Gerard says, mouth twitching to the side like it always did. He smiled a little at her. He is as jittery, too. Frank’s shy little baby. He loved him so.

“So, let’s get what’s on eeryone’s mind out of the way, shall we?” she asks in a soft voice and glances at the notes in front of her.

Gerard’s smile fades to a soft little requiem and he nods at her, eyes innocent and attentive to her voice and upcoming question.

“Your comment on those who thought you were an accomplice to Mr. Iero?” asks the woman who replaced Roger Bettinfield. Frank was still focusing on Gerard’s face. He remembered every look into his eyes, every late night spent staring, sitting next to in the car. He missed him, missed the way he felt against him. He had never registered how lonely he was till Gerard was outside of his reach. It seemed to rot in his soul. He wanted him so badly.

But he wanted to make sure that he was happy and alive more than he wanted to touch him. Maybe he was less selfish now. Maybe he was a better person now. He doubted it, but Gerard was always someone that seemed to turn him into a total 180. Maybe if he had a little more contact with Gerard he would have stopped killing. What a delightful idea. Frank never really like killing. Or if he did, he didn’t like the fact that he was a killer. He didn’t want to be a killer, no, just the moment that the light left their eyes, he was in heaven. It came with the job, the title of monster. He didn’t want to be a monster, simply a gate keeper.

But he didn’t need heaven when he had it right beside him. Why? God, why did he try to ruin that? He loved Gerard, he would always love Gerard. But his darling deserved better. He deserved his happiness.

He would never be able to give him that, even if he didn’t try to kill him. He tried to tell that to himself, that his murder attempt was within good intentions. Or at least had good consequences.

But he didn’t want to focus on that, he wanted to focus on Gerard.

He tried to focus on what he said, the way his lips moved. He couldn’t focus on what used to be, what could have been. He had to make sure that he wasn’t thinking about that. It hurt too much. It was just better to let Gerard talk and listen to him. He was good, he had to reassure himself with that. Gerard was doing alright without Frank. Which was encouraging after Frank had ripped him out of his life, out of his friends and family. It was better that he was back with them, back with people who supported him and loved him, truly loved him. Selflessly.

He was selfish. He just wanted to be with him. But he now knows that love is not what he had in mind, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Nothing was supposed to be like this. He just fucked everything up. He always fucked everything up.

He didn’t mean to. He wasn’t sure if he had good intentions or not, but it truly is the thought that counted. Try saying that to dead people.

Gerard licks his lips and looks up from the table they were sitting at. “Uh, I wasn’t,” he says with a small smile and a little chuckle. He licks his lips again and bites the top, he blushes a little and Frank could almost believe that he didn’t have blood on his hands. Almost. His baby was so good at adapting. “No, but really, it’s kind of messed up that they think I was. I was a hostage, a victim, end of story,” he says. He looks back down to the table, out of touch with reality for a little while. He takes a sigh before looking up.

Frank wants him to always look at the camera so he can see him, straight on. He will never get tired of the way he looks. And he will never get tired of looking at him. He knows that his time with him, with his face, his memory is numbered.

“And how are you coping with it now?” she asks him in a gentle voice. Everyone pities him. But Frank pities himself. He knows that Gerard is well, that he is better off than when he was with Frank. It still burns. He still burns.

He looks back up at her and smiles a little. He takes a thoughtful nod for a second before speaking himself. “Uh, I’m good. Getting better. I mean, I took a little time off work, I think I’m going to start focusing more on art. It’s been a bit of a revelation, definitely,” he says, still nodding through his answer. His hands move, waving around gently like feathers.

Frank wondered if he really was alright. He wondered how good he really was getting at lying.

“And how are people around you coping? Your family?” she asks him. Her eyes are kind. But Frank knows better.

He sits back and focuses on this fully, closing his book. He doesn’t even feel everyone else’s eyes on him. He is solely focused on the television, attached against a dirty wall, chipping piss colored paint. He has never been so captivated by this place, and he was imprisoned here.

He knows that they’re watching, the guards stare at him, hands next to weapons. He won’t move. He doesn’t dare. He loves him. He needs to watch all of him he can. He knows that he might never see him again. The thought that their watching him is quickly pulled away again. Gerard is the only thing that matters. He was always the only thing that mattered and he might never see him again.

That was a weird thought. Never seeing him, never touching him again. He wondered if he was okay with that. If he would ever be okay with that. He wasn’t sure that he would be. But it didn’t matter what he wanted, what he needed. He needed Gerard, but Gerard needed to live.

He was going to make sure that he was okay, stayed okay. It was his duty to him. If he loved him, he was had to let him go.

He watched him because this was probably the only time that he could see him ever again, and he wanted to refresh his memory of his baby boy. He was so afraid of truly losing him, even though he knows that he already had.

He scowled into the screen. With that thought he would become more determined in trying to study all his features, all his movements. He was gorgeous, always has been. He can’t believe he ever tried to kill him. He was so glad that he was breathing. He was so glad that he himself was locked away so he could never pluck the petals from his precious flower.

He would have crushed him under his shoe if fate hadn’t intervened to save him. He was an angel, and Frank never had any right soiling his pretty feathers.

“Uh, well, honestly, I keep to myself so not a lot of other people were affected by it. But I live with my brother and he’s been doing a lot better since I came home. He goes to college, he’s going back now, and he’s definitely started getting back into the swing of things, too. It was pretty hard on him,” he says. He takes a shrug. He smiles something pitiful and Frank wonders if people can see through him.

Frank feels a little bad. He had completely cut Gerard out of his own life, taken and stolen away like a damsel in distress except with a lot more fallout. He had ruined everything for him. He didn’t care about the consequences when he was killing his baby’s friends, killing his baby. He was guilty now, as he should be. Not because he was a killer, but because at one point in time he made Gerard unhappy. Of course he had made Gerard unhappy. He had made him cry.

He looks back to all the times that Gerard had tried to hate him, all the times that he was afraid, worried, homesick. Frank manifested that ball into his stomach. Gerard was home now and Frank was never going to hurt him again, never going to have the chance.

Frank is going to throw up. He doesn’t want to make him feel bad. He just wanted to be in love with him. He just wanted them to be innocent, pure, snow. But they were only the blood on it.

He wondered if Gerard was ever in love with him. Or if he was just scared of him. If all the events added up to some twisted sort of pretend that Frank was playing out in his delusional head.

It wasn’t that pleasant of a question, wasn’t the happiest of the ideas. But he was a little surprised that he had never thought of this before. Or if he had, it had slipped his mind in all his bliss with Gerard. He wondered if he could ever ask him about it. He was sure he could if he would, but the side of him that laid up at night knew that he didn’t even want to open that can of worms.

Talking would lead to more things which would lead to him thinking that he was worthy of Gerard again. That was disastrous.

It was best to just keep away from him really. That’s what he told himself in the middle of the night when he was finding it hard to stay put. Gerard was better this way, he was better this way. He couldn’t kill when his mind was occupied by other things, of course. He just wanted to be good for Gerard. So he thought about him. He never wanted to see him again. He buried the aching deep in his stomach. Gerard was better this way, happier.

Even if he loved him, he was just glad to see him look happy.  Because he really was, right now. So much more happy than Frank could ever give him. He just reminded himself that, saving it into his brain for when he was white knuckling it.

Gerard looks better, jumpy. He’s lost a little weight, Frank doesn’t blame him. He wouldn’t be able to eat after a life altering event, either. He looks tired, in a subtle way like his hair is hastily done and his eyes are rimmed with grey. He looks far away, but bright, like early morning spring fog. But he is beautiful. And he looks happy. A smile plays at his lips every now and again, not like he was hiding something. But like he was just relieved. Like everyone was his friend except the person that couldn’t harm him now.

He is so glad that he is happy. His heart squeezes in his chest and he thanks god that he was able to make Gerard’s life a living hell to grant him happiness, because Gerard’s smiles were better than any heaven Frank could have gone to if he had never killed before.

In some way, Frank was the cause of his distress and the source of his happiness. It was something that would make him feel a little bit better, selfish, but better. He catalogued it in his head, next to Gerard’s face and all of the bad things he had done.

He wasn’t getting out for the rest of his life and he never wanted to. He was going to do his time.

Frank sits in the rec room and watches his lover on the screen. He remembers why (and who) he does this all for. Gerard is so much better now. He reminds himself of that as he sits there, watching him with wide eyes, surrounded by people he was not paying attention to. He never did before, now they were all just paying more attention to him.

He wants to kiss him. He wants to hold him. He just wants to protect him. He misses him so much.

But he is happy. And he is free. And Frank shouldn’t mess with that. He wasn’t sure it would even be worth it.

He scratches at his skin and he misses the way that Gerard used to hold him. Don’t think of mornings, he reminds himself. The mornings were always the best part, even in the last days.

Gerard would come out of the room he locked himself in at night and he would smile at Frank and tell him he loved him.

He cut the thought off there, that was the vault of good things he couldn’t handle when they started getting loose. Those were the late night regret thoughts that he saved for two am.

The reporter continues on with a smile in Gerard’s direction. Everyone pities him, hell, Frank even pities him. He looks so small in this moment. He looks like he is chipping away faster than he can rebuild himself. But he is still building. And that is the thing he has to remember. Gerard is still rebuilding, he is still getting better, no matter how slow that is.

He also reminds himself that he can’t underestimate him. He knows that there is blood on his hands, that there are lives lost because of his blood lust. They have no idea. They don’t know anything about Gerard. He does. He does. He knows what he can do, and now he knows that he can foiol a nation.

Was he trying to call for him? “Wish you were here” sounds a lot like a plea.

He tries not to let himself dwell, though, oh no, he gives himself time to wallow but not now. It would be cruel.

But he concedes, he knows that Gerard is more than meets the eye, he had seen it himself. He just let’s himself mull over all of Gerard’s other kills, the indisputable ones. Natalie, the other man. There was only a few, but God was he electric in them.

They do not know how truly beautiful he can be. He isn’t bitter about him being free, Gee deserves it. Even though he comes across as upset, it may seem. No, he was merely proud. He’s proud that his baby is so good at lying. He’s proud that his baby is so good at everything he taught him how to do. He taught him everything; it was nice to see him come to fruition. This was his greatest creation, he gave him wings. Even if after everything he had to throw him off a cliff.

Even if after everything it started to rip both of them apart and Gerard had to go home. A dream had to end sometime, even if it was as pure as they were. As bright and hopeful as those two were.

He knew potential when he saw it. Gerard was the best apprentice. He was so gifted, he was glad to have awakened the darkness inside of him. He was glad to see it hadn’t completely swallowed him.

“Any comment on The New Jay?” she asks him with bated breath. She looks like she’s tiptoeing around this. Everyone is walking on eggshells around him. Everyone wants to see if he’ll explode, if, when prodded, he’ll do something that interests them. Frank is sickened by media. Sickened by the people that looked at this all like it was a spectacle.

“Um, damn, you’re probably expecting some angry rant,” he says with a little flash of a small smile, embarrassed for himself being caught off guard. So good at lying, if lying it really was. The smile was plastic, the dimples forced. Frank knew, but Gerard really was eluding him.

He clung to his hope, his stupid misguided and unneeded hope.

There would be hell to pay if Gerard wanted him again, if he thought Gerard wanted him again. So he tried to keep it down. He didn’t want to talk to him ever again, he feared the worse. He feared Gerard actually wanting him.

Frank’s heart squeezes in his chest. He loves him so much it breaks his ribs. But he cannot have him. It would be too dangerous, they were too volatile.

“Well, I’m sure you have something to say about it,” she allows. Her hand gestures to him, goading him on in a socially acceptable way.

Frank wants to touch Gerard. He wants to hold him in his arms again. His bones grow cold at the next thought. He will never hold him again. He won’t let himself even if he could. But honestly, he knows that he will. Deep down, if Gerard asked him to, he would cave in. And all the canaries inside him will die.

Gerard shakes his head, pursing his lips. “The thing is, I don’t. I honestly just want to wipe my hands of all of this. It’s pretty painful thinking back to it. I’m sure that you can understand. I really just don’t want to think about it. And I hope that this was a onetime thing because I don’t think I could personally deal with a second Jay,” he says, still shaking his head. He shivers and holds himself.

Frank’s eyes flick to the lady and she looks a bit conflicted.

She looks a little bit disappointed with his answer but allows him to stay with it because he is looking a little upset at it all. No matter how much they want him to react, they don’t want him to have a breakdown on national television. She probably doesn’t want a grown man crying on television, either. Good call. She tries to save the dark interview with something lighter, a cheery tone to the darkness that is their topic. Frank can’t believe the smile these people are sticking onto his crimes. Just goes to show how much he hates people.

So maybe he would have killed still if he wasn’t in prison. Gerard still liked to kill when they were together, something that he remembers ever so fondly of his lover. He would never forget the look on his face the first time he had killed someone. He was born for this. Frank had shaped him into this, but he knew that Gerard still had it in him.

But not anymore, Frank would not let him. And he was sure that morals got in the way of any and all endeavors Gerard might have gone on. But maybe that’s underestimating him. Maybe he was lying to this woman, he looks pretty sincere about it all. He looks like he really cares about staying out of the spotlight.

“So, Mr. Way, that is all we have time for today. We here at FIGW wish you the best.” She stands from her seat and shakes his hand. She looks into the camera and nods before turning back to Gerard who had started speaking. His eyes are wide and spongey, like he has something very terrible to say to this woman that would make her cry. He looks like he’s sorry for something that was out of his power. Frank tries to remember those eyes. The eyes that he got when the kill wore off and he was just sorry for their victim.

He smiles and shakes back politely, “And all to you, I’m very sorry for your loss,” he says with sincerity. His eyes looked drenched with solemn condolences. In this moment, he is one with this woman. He cares for this woman.

The woman smiles back, something that’s more of a symbol of austere thanks than anything. He knew that they were sharing a mutual sadness over his death. Gerard, though, was definitely more of a courtesy grief type. He never knew the guy. But this woman did, she knew what coffee he took and the color of his eyes.  Gerard honestly knew nothing about this man. He had just hard about it. She had become the spectacle.

But he still told her that he was sorry for her loss sincerely.

The moment that they shared was solidified, staring into each other’s eyes. But it didn’t feel dirty, looking on it. He just watched them.

All theories that Frank had about Gerard sending him a message were scrapped. He felt a little bummed out, maybe it was just a fan. He had had those before. Maybe it was just a person who was just upset that he wasn’t there to spread carnage and just wanted to follow in his legacy. He was flattered, but he wondered how Gerard really felt about it. If it crawled under his skin late at night or if that was something he was just saying to that woman so she would not think that he killed, too.

Maybe Gerard didn’t like it one bit. Maybe he wanted all of this just to stop. He wondered if it was really messing Gerard up. He wondered if he was up at night thinking about him, how it reminded him of him. He wanted to remind Gerard of something. Something good and pure that made him want to fall in love with him again. He wanted to be part of him.

He focuses out by then, not wanting to really hear what they had to say next. The disappointment hung deep in his chest. He just wanted Gerard to want him. Was it that hard to ask?

Apparently it would, because he started overthinking it which was the worst type of criticism available. He just wanted Gerard to want him. He just wanted to be wanted.

But he knew that that would open up a whole can of worms. And he loved him, but if he said the word, just as much as breathed it, Frank would be killing his way out of that place as fast as possible. He would do anything for Gerard. Anything to make him happy and anything that would make himself happy. He was terrible like that, selfish like that.

He thought of his face again, filling out, slightly gaunt, but happy. He was happy now, he reminded himself. Gerard did not need him fucking up his life. He was good now. Everything was good now. For Gerard, at least.

Frank could say something for himself, knowing that he would be in love with Gerard for all his life. Never touching him again, never even seeing him again in person. He was oddly content that way, it was safer for Gerard. Better. He kept telling himself that. He kept telling himself that this was for the best no matter how much it gouged into his chest.

But despite all of this Frank supposed that he was doing alright. There weren’t too many bad things that piled its way into his life. It was just the fact that Gerard was away. Prison wasn’t even that bad. He was glad to be where he was because that meant it was impossible for him to get out without a struggle. It was a nice enough incentive to truly keep him away from Gerard. If it was just him holding himself back he wouldn’t last a day. Wouldn’t have even thought about letting Gerard go home. He was too selfish for that. But now, there was everything stopping him from getting his baby back. And he was glad for that.

He walked back to his cell thinking about that. If he could, he would run right to Gerard. And truth be told, he really could, but that would take effort and he cared enough to stay away to not poke the bear. Maybe if Gerard wanted him and he persuaded him, he would be out in an hour or so. He would kill as many as he had to get to Gerard if he just wanted him to.

But for prison life, he couldn’t complain very much. Ironically speaking, this was better than his life before Gerard. Because at least now, he knows that something as beautiful as Gerard existed and he had a protégé. Any life with Gerard was better than anyone without, end of story.

Besides, he was pretty comfortable. They put him in his own cell, seeing as he was one of the more dangerous inmates, so he had a lot of privacy, even if there was like no door. And he didn’t talk to anyone and he didn’t need to. He was sure that he would get a life sentence. So he would go about this way for the rest of his life. And he wasn’t too bothered by that. Only when he was reminded that he could have something better, could have Gerard did he get antsy, sitting here all alone.

He missed him; he was always going to miss him.

Maybe he would go insane not talking to anyone. He found himself fervently wishing, when the officer watched him step into the cell, that Pete was a vampire and could live to see Frank every other day forever. He didn’t want to think about what happened when his friend stopped coming to see him. Because there would be an end. There was always an end. And Frank didn’t want to see it happen.

He shut his eyes as he got back into the stiff bed. He smiled, thinking of Gerard smiling back. He was doing this for him. Everything, always, for him. He was the only good thing in his life, ever, and he needed to be preserved. Even if Frank couldn’t even be there to see him ever again.

He would ask Pete for a picture. A picture wouldn’t hurt anybody. He would see if he could get one for him. And he would love from afar.

 

Gerard wondered if his lover saw this, if he cared enough to see this. He wanted him to know that he was here, that he loved him. He wanted to be the only thing. He missed Frank. He wanted him, he wanted him so badly.

He wondered if he got the message, understood it and all its connotations. He wondered if he had ever deciphered the fact that he was lying about everything needed in the interview.

He wondered if he saw it and misconstrued it. He really hoped he didn’t, he needs him to be sure about this, to see that Gerard would only ever be happy if Frank was there with him, or the thought of getting Frank back was there.

That was the reason he was so happy, that and the previous killing. He loved killing. He would have to do it more. He wondered who would be his next victim. Maybe it would be the lady that he was interviewed by.

He felt a little bad for her, she was nice. He didn’t want to have to kill her. But he wanted to kill and so she would be it. If Frank saw it, he would be sure to know that he was the one.

He mulled over who would be better to kill. He wondered if he had to kill this woman.

There really wasn’t anyone that would be better. If Frank heard about him killing this woman, he would surely know that he was the one doing it. He hoped.

He missed Frank. He missed Frank every night, every day. He wanted to go see him. He wondered if he was lonely, if he loved him as much as Gerard loved him. He worried about that, that when the bruises faded Frank would fade. He needed Frank. He wanted Frank. He loved Frank. He was worried that he didn’t want him anymore. Or wouldn’t want him in a few days’ time.

He shivered in his coat, filing past people whose’ eyes clung to him every now and again. They recognized him. He buried his eyes into the sidewalk, chewing gum and blemishes passing him up as he walked. He didn’t want to be seen by these people. He wanted to disappear into Frank.

He was a little lonely today, walking himself home from the News Station where he had agreed to let them interview him. He even got a little bit of money for it. Why hadn’t he done that sooner? He could use some cash. He could sell his story away to people. Get money from pity. But he was much too shy to really do that. Besides, he was a spectacle. He had to get a real job, not as a circus animal.

He had filled out that job application, too. He was waiting for a response back now. He wasn’t sure if he expected one out of pity or none at all. But he remained hopeful. Anyway, if he didn’t get chosen for this job than his old job would take him back. There was always that soul crushing thing that he had to fall back on. It wasn’t the best, but it paid the bills. And let Gerard and Mikey live comfortably.

That was actually looking a little appealing now. He had made a good amount of money, enough to keep them afloat. The hours weren’t terrible. But he was just tired of feeling tired and bored of being stuck. He was an artist, not a brick wall.

He passed a man who nudged him with his shoulder, on purpose Gerard knew. Some people were childish. But he was confident that when he went into adulthood that move wouldn’t be pulled on him. But he rolled his eyes and bit his tongue anyway. He had the power. And with power came responsibility.

How weird it was, knowing that if he really wanted to, he could track that person down and kill them. The power at his hands was a forgettable one, one that seemed to slip into his skin long enough to wash the blood away. But it was a power that stuck with him, wove its way into his body, sinking him into the sea like concrete.

He wondered fleetingly if he was going to hell. He wondered if he was being pulled to the bottom by this weight. He wondered if when he died it would hurt, if he deserved to hurt.

His brother greeted him when he got home, handing him coffee and a forgiving smile-no-supportive smile. He knew that the interview was going to be hard on Gerard. That the interview had been hard on him. It showed on his face. He dropped the façade and now all he and was even more tired eyes just waiting to fall out of his head.

“How was it?” he asked when they were sat on the couch, feet tucked properly into the cushions, under their legs, warm and toasty.

This felt so familiar. Like nothing mattered when it was just the brothers. Gerard could forget everything that had happened to him and stay here forever, like this. It was home. But no, he knew who really was home. And his home was Frank.

He put his head against the couch. He didn’t want to think about the future. It would probably make him wind up dead. He masked his eyes, because he knew that his brother could see through him, and replied.

“It went well, I didn’t have a breakdown on camera, so that’s something,” Gerard shrugged and took a sip. It was still a little too hot, so he forgot it for a moment, letting it cool down.

Mikey twitched a smile at him, smelling his coffee deeply before replying, “You really okay, though? No bad memories getting dredged up? I just want you to be okay,” he said, putting a hand heated by the mug over top one of his brother’s.

Gerard sighed and looked at their hands, Gerard was paler than Mikey. But Mikey was still thinner. They had twin bones. He was so lucky to have him. He would have gone insane if he was all alone after what happened. He would have gone insane before that.

Gee smiled at his brother assuring him of his sanity. That seems to be all they can do now, sips of coffee, soft smiles, glances toward the other whenever the need arose. They were dancing around each other and no matter how good they both returned to, Gerard was scared they would never be what they used to. It wasn’t the first time the thought had arisen in his mind, but it was becoming more real by the second. He missed his brother. He missed everyone. Everything and how it used to be. In a perfect world Ray would be alive, Frank would be with him and Mikey would be his best friend still. In a perfect world none of this would have happened.

He closed his eyes. It was too bright, looking at the dim world as it was. He wanted everything to be alright again. He just wanted it to be good. Why couldn’t it be good for him?

He shivered as he thought about being alone. He was alone. Mikey was different. He was different. Everything was different. He wondered, briefly, if he came clean would they get closer again?

They had both changed so much; Mikey was wiser now, more reserved now. He was what Gerard used to be. Did he realize that? Did he realize that they seemed to promote to different people? The roles switched. Gerard was now clueless and Mikey was independent.

Gerard was different, too. He was keeping secrets. He was jumpier, more calculated. He wasn’t as nice as he used to be, and only he noticed this in small ways. Power was not for everyone and he was feeling the effects of his. It was ruining him. But he had to kill and he had to get Frank back. He loved him so much he just wanted him back. That seemed to stick in his brain, repeating on a mantra that sent him closer to death. He wanted to be happy. And he wanted everything in his life to be fine. He knew that there was a price to pay, a sacrifice to make.

If only Frank was here to help him, fix it, balance it out. He wanted him to make it all better, or at least try. He loved him very much. He was so scared that everything would fall apart around him.

And he loved Mikey very much and he wanted both men to be happy. But to make them happy he would have to be with them. And neither liked the other. There was no both. There was only a choose. He wanted to choose Frank. But he wanted to choose Mikey. He wanted to love the both of them.

It was all fucked. Everything was fucked. But he smiled at his brother anyway. “I’m okay, actually. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He set down the cup and hugged his brother; at least his body was the same. Gerard’s was different. He was thinner, waifish. He tried to suppress everything and focus on being tired. He smiled again at his bizarre expression and walked into his bedroom.

 

Pete sat across from Frank, through glass with several holes littered through it. There was a guard, over to the edge, even out of hearing range. Apparently privacy came over most policy. But he wasn’t complaining. He needed some space where he could truly be Frank again. He seemed stifled in this place, he had forgotten what it was like to really have a conversation with no boundaries.

“How have you been?” Frank asked him with a smile. It had gotten lonely, he liked seeing his friend. Pete was nicer than anyone here and he was always a fresh face. He was his link to the outside world and he was very grateful for him. They had only gotten closer after the accident, to Frank’s surprise and delight.

“I’ve been staying in a sorry motel for weeks just to visit your ass,” Pete said, playful bitterness seeping into his tone.  Frank knew that he had left his own home, where Gerard and Frank once called home to come and visit him every few days.

Frank chuckled at him. “Why don’t you just get a place?” he asked.

Pete had decided to temporarily stay close to the facility so he could visit Frank more effectively. He pretended to not be excited about it. But Frank could tell that he liked these visits as much as Frank did.

“I could, but that would take effort,” he says, scrunching his nose at the thought.

Frank chuckled again at his friend, childish forever. It was refreshing to see him, to hear him.

Pete took a sigh, drumming on the table. “How have you been?” he asked. He really was quite concerned with Frank and how he was. He didn’t want him going mad or anything.

“In prison. Missing Gerard to death.” He can barely say his name without it pushing his head under water. It sounded so ugly coming out of his throat, and he was something so beautiful. Like strangling a dove.

Pete got a little more solemn after that; Gerard was never to be talked about unless elusive. They both didn’t like to think about the person that seemed to get them into this mess. If they talked about him too much, they both feared what would happen. “Did you see that he was on TV?” he asked. It was something to maybe get his mind off Gerard, even if it was about him.

“Yeah,” he said solemnly. He was still bummed that there was no possibility Gerard sent him that message. He sat up at night, after he first saw him, thinking about it, how sick it made him feel that he was calling to him. He wanted to stay strong, but he wanted to be wanted. Even if it was dangerous and in the long run he really didn’t want Gerard to love him again. Or at all.

“I think he did it,” Pete said, looking to Frank like he was giving a thirsting man water. He knew the delicacy of this conversation. He knew what Frank would do if he got it in his head that Gerard wanted to be with him again, at all. He would get dangerous again. Malcontent.

Frank sighed; he did not want to go down this road. His head fell onto his hand. “That’s what I thought,” he said, circling a finger on the table. His heart thumped in his chest like he was dying. He was going to burst. He loved Gerard so much he wanted to die so he wouldn’t kill him so he wouldn’t hurt him again. He didn’t want to hurt him. He just wanted to keep him safe.

If there was anything, if Gerard just said the word Frank would slaughter thousands for him. He wanted him to love him so badly. He wanted to keep him safe more.

“Why don’t you think that anymore?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. He looked a little upset at Frank, like he expected him to turn back into a ruthless killer at the flip of a switch. But Frank was always a ruthless killer, you see. Sometimes he was just softer. Gerard made him softer.

He was quiet now, nothing to drive him unless he got really bored. And he wouldn’t get really bored. There was nothing keeping him from killing, though. There was nothing but his own inhibitions. You would think half a hundred murders would get him to a point where he was as comfortable doing this as breathing.

“Well, on the news yesterday. He sounded pretty genuine when he gave his condolences,” Frank shrugged. He didn’t look up at Pete although he felt his eyes on the top of his head, burning into his skull. He knew how he looked, what he was thinking. His friend could see through him, like daggers. He didn't believe in the same outlook as him, he was much more hopeful.

Pete was pretty insistent, he didn’t like seeing his friend upset. He just wanted him to be happy. And he wanted him to be happy with Gerard.He knew that he wouldn’t hurt Gerard. But Frank didn’t trust himself as much as Pete did. He watched him, eyebrows raised as far as they could. He was waiting for him to look up with the same sad expression that he always had on his face. The one that he had had for weeks. Nothing changed, he was still as sad as he always was. He loved Gerard like he always did.

“He could have been lying. I’m sure he’s pretty good at that now,” he says. Frank looked up to see him biting on his lip absentmindedly. His arms were crossed, holding onto his elbows. It was cold in the room, Frank was used to it. Pete never was.

Frank sounded bitter, looked bitter. Pete could tell. It wasn’t because of Gerard; it was never because of Gerard. It was because he wanted Gerard to want him again so badly. He wanted to be good enough for him to want, worthy of his affection.

He shrugged again, looking at the wall instead of his friend, bleach white and chipping paint. It looked worn, just as worn as everyone in here. He hated it there, pitiful people and everything sad. Gerard was bright. Gerard was good, his smile lighting up the world.

He looked at his hand, the scar pink and angry at him for breaking his promise. Blood for blood, he was always going to be with Gerard, even if they were apart. That was love. That was obsession. He wondered if Gerard covered up the scar, if he was ashamed of what he had with Frank.

“I don’t want him to want me,” he shook his head, looking down at the table again. He was lying too himself, Gerard wanting him was the one of the only things that he wanted, besides Gerard himself. Everyone wanted to be wanted, but he wanted to be wanted by the person he wanted.

“Well, he does,” Pete said, now this time he was the one giving his words a shrug, letting them roll off his back and tumble cacophonously to the floor. They clamored against the concrete and made Frank flinch.

He wanted to hear Gerard’s voice again, he wanted to know him again, touch him again. He closed his fists, this was not easy. This was never going to get any easier. He realized that, every day was going to be spent alone, wanting Gerard.

Frank sighed and looked back, licking his lips before he spoke, deliberating. “What if he does? What if he wants me? What happens then, Pete?” he asks. He won’t look his friend in the eye. They both know what would happen, the worst case scenario, the best. He is ashamed of it, of himself.

“He wants you, then. You have to decide what to do if he does,” he says. Pete isn’t going to help him on this manner and Frank knows it.

Frank isn’t liking where this is going. He doesn’t like to poke the bear when it comes to Gerard. He wants to stay where he is. He wants to pretend that Gerard doesn’t love him. Because if he did he wouldn’t be able to stay in this place. Because Gerard would need him and he would need Gerard. He doesn’t want to be wanted. He doesn’t want to hurt Gerard again. He is so scared of hurting him again he could cut his hands off if it meant a better chance of Gerard keeping the light in his eyes.

He was a monster.

He looked down at his hands again. He wouldn’t look at Pete. He wouldn’t look at anything but the blood, running like sand through his fingers, Gerard’s breath and soft flesh on his hands. He didn’t want him, he told himself. He didn’t want Gerard. He just wanted Gerard to be happy. There was a fine line.

He thought of Gerard with anyone else and his stomach flopped, lighting on fire. He would stay away from that. He would stay away from that for his own sanity.

Frank shook his head, holding his hands over his head, smashing his forehead against the table. He doesn’t want to think about it. He bites his lip again. He rips some skin off, feeling the pain and cool of the raw. “Check on him for me,” he whispers, just loud enough for Pete to hear. He was getting softer. So soft that he would decay and there wouldn’t be anything left of him to hurt Gerard.

“You want to me to see if Gerard is alright?” Pete asks to clarify.

“Yeah, yeah… I just-I need to know that he’s really happy. If he’s happy then I’d be able to stay away,” he nods to himself, trying to justify it all. Gerard needs to be okay. He needs to know that he’s alright. He won’t want to fuck it up if Gerard was doing alright.

“You sure? Are you gonna be able to handle it if he’s not okay?” he asks his friend, looking out for his wellbeing as well as he could.

Frank nodded again. He was going to be okay. “Yeah. If he’s not, then he’s got his brother and he’ll get over it.” He wasn’t sure what he would do if Gerard was okay either. He hoped that he would treat him well and stay away. He wanted to be better. He would do that by being good to Gerard, staying away from Gerard.

He didn’t want to hurt him anymore. And if one final laceration was what it took to cut him out completely, he was going to do it. Watch from afar and love him, but never touch him, never have him again. He had ruined his moment. He was never going to give himself another, even if Gerard wanted him.

“Frank-,” Pete started in the tone he got when he was trying to be a good friend, trying to advise him out of shit. But Frank wasn’t going to hear it. He didn’t want to have anything to do with what Pete was going to say to him. He knew that it was going to be about Gerard, about how he should get him back. He didn’t want him back. Even if he wanted him. Pete had to realize that. That this would be best for Gerard in the longevity of things.

“No,” he shook his head again. “Just check on him, please.” His eyes flicked up to his friend, he didn’t want to have this conversation. No, that was for another time. He felt too many thoughts in his head, he didn’t want to sift through them right now. He wasn’t used to it anymore. He was used to being by himself, not having anyone to really talk to.

“Alright, don’t worry, Frank. I’ll make sure he’s alright,” Pete said to his friend, glancing at the clock that told them it was almost time for him to go.

They still had a few minutes left to themselves. He wanted to make the most of it, get all of his Gerard needs off his chest.

Frank got twenty minutes with his friend in a visiting day. And Pete came every other. But he still didn’t like the fact that he had to go. He liked talking to him; he was glad that he still came around. He had lost everyone else. He was happy he still had Pete.

“And, uh, can you get me a picture of him? My cell is looking pretty fucking bare and I need to see him, make sure my fantasies don’t take over,” he shrugs, blushing awkwardly into his hand. He was excited for this part. Maybe he could twist his mind enough where he could see him everytime he turned to face the wall. He would never want to look anywhere else if he had a picture of Gerard with him.

Pete nods. “Frank, are you really sure about all of this?” he asks. If there wasn’t glass separating them, Frank would be sure that Pete would put his hand on Frank’s shoulder. It was the friendly thing that he did, every time Frank was about to do something insane. Which he did on a regular basis, especially when they first started hanging out.

Frank nodded, eager now, all of a sudden. He couldn’t wait till it was the day after the next. He needed that picture of Gerard to get him through the coming years. He was going to be in here for a very long time.

He wanted to remember him so long he knew the most miniscule details about him long after he forgot his own basics. He wanted to know Gerard’s laugh after he had forgotten his own name. He wanted to remember his fingertips long after he couldn’t remember his high school’s colors. He wanted Gerard, all the time. He wanted him to eclipse his existence. He wanted to fall into his lover. He wanted Gerard to be the only thing that he saw.

He closed his eyes and let his lover take over.

He felt Pete’s eyes on him but he couldn’t care less in the moment. He hoped that he would be okay, that Pete would give back good news when he came back in two days time.

“I have to go,” Pete announced to him after looking at the clock and deciding his fate due to the time. He sighed and got up. “I’ll get you the picture, though, and I’ll check on him for you,” he said with a sigh.

Frank’s eyes opened, flicking themselves to his friend.

Frank stood up, too and the guard that was off to the side went to him, taking him back to the main part of the prison where his cell was. Everyone watched him, was on guard around him. He was the most dangerous person in here. That wasn’t even an achievement.

He thought of Gerard. He always thought of Gerard. And he reminded himself again, that he was doing everything for Gerard. Everything was so he could stay alive, so he could stay home. So he could be happy.

Frank had ruined his chances with him before he tried to kill him. He ruined their chances of ever being together when he killed his first person. He had made so many mistakes, adding up to Gerard not wanting him anymore.

He wondered if his life would ever be different if he never told Gerard what he did, what he got up to. He was sure that he could have kept it a secret for longer, that he would be able to hold it all in till the boiling point only reached when it was safe. But no, he made the wound young and raw. And now he could never go back.

He wasn’t sure that he wanted to. It was better this way, if they had gotten any farther, any different, even, Gerard would have been dead. Many more people would have been dead.

He knew from the beginning that he was going to kill him. Falling in love with him just prolonged him, made it hurt a little bit more for the both of them.

Who knew that killing someone could be the least of their problems?

Who knew that he could be a better person from committing murder?

He wished he was as innocent as he was when he was guilty, months ago, years ago. When Gerard was just a new toy. When no one knew what he was, what he did. When everything was okay but nothing really was because he didn’t have Gerard yet.

Maybe those first few weeks with him were the best, the ones where he still thought he was going to kill him, before he told him, before he fell in love with him. Maybe it was better now because Gerard was out of his reach. Maybe, maybe. He shouldn’t dwell on the past, he might trip in the future.

The guard took him into his room, giving him a look that all of them gave him whenever he got quiet. He was always quiet, and they always looked at him like he was going to explode in their faces.

He wished that he was anything but numb. He wished that he wanted to kill because that would be wanting anything besides Gerard.

He wondered what he was up to. He always thought of Gerard.


	5. Normal Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who wrote like 7000 words in two days because they're a procrastinating asshole. Me. A few minutes to spare on this, surprised I made it. Geez. Like 5000 words today. I thank all the chiptune. Happy Thansksgiving

Gerard followed the unsuspecting woman late at night, she clutched her bag. She knew that he was following her. He smiled in himself, he liked the part when they screamed. Frank was good at that, though. Gerard had never been ruthless.

But now he was. He was becoming the killer that frank was, filling his spot and twisting into The New Jay. nobody knew though. He was Jersey’s best kept secret.  He was Jersey’s most dangerous secret.

He smiled wider. Frank got caught because of him. But he, he would never get caught and he would break Frank out of jail. This was all part of the plan, the plan that he began to have control over better and better every death. He was at a crossroads, on the cusp of greatness. He couldn’t let anyone down. He couldn’t let Frank down. He needed to do this.

Frank wouldn’t get rid of him now. He wouldn’t want him to be happy. He would want to be with him. He would want him more when he was better. He would want him more, he would want to be with him.

Frank had to want him now that he was a good killer, a better killer. Because Gerard wanted Frank. Gerard wanted the power, he wanted the lover. He missed Frank, he needed him more than he ever thought he could.

He needs to get him back, take him back. He needed the power that he brought.

Roger Bettinfield was his first real taste of power, but here we go with this woman. This was his second shot at getting Frank’s attention. This was going to be the better one. he was getting the hang of a solo kill. He was becoming more masterful by the moment.

He smiled again and went after the woman who was know fully aware that someone was following her. She knew that she was going to die tonight. She knew that she was in the last few moments of her life. He felt her fear, but instead of being consumed by it, he fed on it. He was the predator, she the prey.

Gerard loved this part, loved the hunt. The kill was just the climax. But the setup was amazing. It was the art of it all. It was the fun of it.

She ran faster down the block, looking back on the occasion to see him gaining on her. She was going to die and she was realizing that faster than she was running.

He jogged faster in the night to catch up with her. He heard the clacking off her heels like her heartbeat, she was terrified. Oh, God, she was terrified. They both knew that she was going to die. Oh, how sweet her fear was. He could feel it in his bones, coursing through her veins. It went straight to his head like a high. She was going to die and it was going to be by his hand. He had the power. He was her master.

She turned around and he could see her eyes, her face. Like a deer in the headlights, she looked towards him but she could not see him. All she could see was a masked person coming for her life, to take it and crush it.

It was that reporter, that poor woman who interviewed Gerard. She was nice, Gerard felt a little bad. But he was eager, he was so eager to come and get this woman and kill her. She was not so eager.

He felt a little bad for her, chasing her like a cat and a mouse. But sympathy was for someone who didn’t take lives. Sympathy was for the weak. So he let it get out of his system. Killers didn’t have mercy, Frank didn’t have mercy. He didn’t care, even when his victim was Gerard. He was the best killer.

But the idea that Frank was as ruthless a killer with him as anyone made him dig up some painful memories.

He didn’t like to think about that. So he didn’t. Just block it out, Gerard. Just push it down and pretend that he loves you. Get it out of your head or she’ll slip away and Frank really won’t want you. He didn’t think of that. He had to concentrate. He had to make sure that she didn’t get away from him. He had to kill her.

For Frank, everything for Frank. He would spill blood for his lover. This woman would be a sacrifice to the person he cared for. He loved killing. He loved Frank. He had to get him back, had to prove himself.

Had to, had to. Frank would be so proud. He would be so proud of him.

He shivered in anticipation. He wanted to get this over with, but he pitied this woman. She was a nice girl, even if she did think him an anomaly. But everyone thought he was an anomaly. He was Gerard Way, the victim of the year. The news ate him and Frank up. He was sure that he would go down in history even if he wasn’t secretly this new killer everyone was freaking out about.

Oh, how they would be in awe when they found out. If they ever found out.

He smiled wickedly to himself. What would the reveal be like? What would the headlines say? ‘Crazed killers in love” perhaps? That’s right, they were in love. And no one would forget them. They would be better than Bonnie and fucking Clyde. Better than Mickey and Mallory.

Frank and him would go down in history as the Jays.

He tried not to get ahead of himself and again focused on the trembling woman. Concentration was key when he was a killer.

“Hello, ma’am,” he said in a dark voice, trying to mask his own. He knew it wouldn’t work, but why not try. He couldn’t really sound menacing with his pixie voice now could he? But it didn’t really matter, no, she was going to die tonight and the look of fear on her face when she reacted was enough to know that it had finally sunk in for her. She knew what he was going to do. But neither knew how he was going to do it.

That was the fun of it all. Gerard was impulsive, even to himself. No one knew what he was going to do next with all his power.

She screamed and turned around, looking at him. Her gasp as he came upon her left her needing air and needing help. She was panic stricken in his arms, eyes wide and terrified.

He enjoyed the way her eyes went from pure terror to half confusion. They almost seemed to want to soften.

“Mr. Way?” she asked before Gerard slit her throat, skin slicing beautifully as he pressed down on the pale and illuminated flesh. Why hadn’t he done this years ago?

She didn’t do much more than tremble after saying his name and getting the timid laceration etched into her skin.

She just gasped again and went even more limp. blood running out of her body and fear leaving as well. She was dead now, there was no need for fear. Her eyes were glass, covered in the forgotten fear, fear she wasn’t quite sure why that was there. She had forgotten. Now all that was left was her corpse, a parody of the person she used to be, the something she used to be.

Her breath was ragged, blood spilling down her throat, crimson red and rolling. The blood lived on much past the human, the blood still remembered to run when she had stopped.

She took another slow breath and Gerard wondered how much they looked like they were stuck in a dance position, half dipping and filled with artistic, gentle violence. A person could probably only see their shadow or their silhouette. Little did they know that this had a sinister plot. That this woman was dead and Gerard was going to do something horrible to her.

Gerard smiled to himself and dropped the woman, her breath fading with every moment he stared into her dead eyes. Any semblance of a glint was gone. Her body hit the concrete with a sickening smack. Gerard cringed, he never really liked that sound, no matter how many people he killed.

She sputtered a bit and Gerard kicked her, pursed lips trying to identify if she was really dead, toeing her with a shoe. Her neck still ran with blood, slickened. Her blouse was covered in it, the top soaked in the red, turning the original color darker.

Gerard dropped to his knees anyway to start his message. deciding after a moment that it really didn’t matter. In fact, he would probably get more of a reaction if she was to remain alive for this all. He wasn’t cruel like that, he never liked to prolong the kill once he really started it, but he was ambivalent. He was sure that this corpse, if it was one, was too.

“What should I write for Frank?” he asked himself in a mutter, looking around to see if people were in the wings, waiting to get him, watching him. There was nobody else around except for the shadows.

He used to be afraid of the dark. Now he had become it.

He shook his head at the idiotic thought and turned to the body, beginning to work on her flesh, dragging the knife around, seeing it glint in the flickering call of the streetlight. He couldn’t believe there wasn’t anybody around. He saw his face in the light of the knife. He looked exhilarated, like after sex.

He remembered the times, with Frank. He curled up in bed with him, warm and fucked out. That was how they got together, it would be how they ended. Gerard missed the touch of his lover’s body on his own. He missed the movement of Frank’s skin on his. He wondered how long it would be till he saw his lover. How long it would be till he felt him again. He missed him so much.

He heard a rustle, liek shoes on the grimy pavement. Was someone watching? More importantly, was it someone bad?

He whipped around, hunched over the body. There was nothing but the shadows, but he still called out for good measure.

No one would hear, though, it was deserted except for him and this stranger and the corpse.

He got no answer, he didn’t expect one.

The street became eerie in how dark it was, how desolate. His attention was brought to it all after he had had the initial high of the kill. He wondered how many people came down here. What exactly happened down here and why it was so shit ridden. Why no one was here tonight in a bustling city with a thriving seedy underbelly.

He turned back to his work, the woman’s eyes were now more of the creepy variety. He didn’t like being alone with the dead for too long. He didn’t like the fact that he was alone at all.

He wanted to tell someone, but he didn’t want anyone to know what he was. He didn’t need anyone to know, then the game would be over. He liked his game.

He liked the fun that it gave to his life to occupy him while Frank was gone. He wondered how long it would be till Frank came around and contacted him. He wondered if he would have Pete do it. He wondered if he even wanted to.

He shook his head, no, no, Frank still loved him, Frank still wanted him. Frank cared. He hoped he cared.

He wondered how long it would take for this to get on the news and who he could get next. Who people would think he would get next, how Frank would want him when he heard about what he did.

He shivered at the thought of Frank. Everything about him made him want to sing. He smiled to himself, fond of him. He loved him very much. He wanted to make him proud. He wanted to make him happy.

He just wanted to be good enough for Frank to want. He wanted to be good enough for Frank to care about.

He shook his head and sighed. He decided on his term, something that he really wished for. That he wanted Frank to know he wanted, knew.

He wiped the knife on her pants and ripped her shirt, showing her bra, lacy and pale. He felt a little bad about it, this was a little offensive to her, but he didn’t really care. Roger Bettinfield died with his dick out. And she was dead anyway, cadavers don’t have modesty. This was all just shock factor, now. This was more for the newspapers.

He etched in his newest message to Frank in this woman’s dark skin, she was colder by the moment and not just because of the weather. He loved the feeling of death seeping into a body, he loved how they were so much more quiet than the living. He hummed the little tune under his breath. “You and me, always forever,” rang his eerie voice under his breath, to the buildings and the sidewalks and the nobodies that were there, watching. Frank would surely understand this one if he didn’t get the other. He whistled it as he worked, moving from the soft hum to the more piercing of the sounds. He smiled at his work, the red skin angry at him for his deeds.

They cried more blood. He felt a little bit bad again. Poor sap who would find this body was gonna have a hell of a time.

Her eyes seemed to watch him work, glinting in the night. He shut them for her, turning back to his work in a moment. But the dead still watch, even if they do not speak. She is watching him, judging him.

He shivered, not because of the cold. But because of all his thoughts and all the loneliness. He wanted to get out of there, he was getting the creepy crawlies. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt eyes on the back of his neck.

He looked around again, trying to see if there was anyone else watching him, alive or dead. He was sure that he was alone, but he was paranoid of people sneaking up on him, the shadows choking him out. He was the only killer tonight and it would stay that way.

No one but the street would know it was him. He was the perfect killer. Was Frankie proud of him? Would he be proud of him when he told him all of his atrocious acts?

It was all for him, all for Frank. He reminded himself who he loved, who he wanted to be proud of him. Everything that he did he did for his lover and he made sure to remember that. Sure, he loved killing, but it was more of a means to an end. A means to get Frankie back.

He looked at his work and he could barely believe that it was he who did it. A few months before he had never had the urge to take a human life. But Frank had awoken something in him, made him into the killer that terrorized whole states. He was beautiful now, and Frank would see that he was getting more beautiful by the day.

Gerard wondered what he would do with this knife, if he would bring it home or discard it. Bringing it home could lead to Mikey finding it, or to police searching his house for it. He knew that he would get more attention as the murders progressed. But his fingerprints were on it. Could he clean it, leave it?

It was his only weapon. He resigned to take it.

He wiped it on her clothes again, just to make sure the blood wouldn’t stain his coat and walked off into the night, back home to his sleeping brother.

Killing was always much too easy. It was always something that came so naturally.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. It was sure as fuck lucky, God knows how long he would be put away if shit hadn’t worked out like it did. He didn’t know how long he could be put away if all his good luck ended. He didn’t want to find out.

He resigned to thinking that his evil heart was a product of the environment. It would help him sleep better at night.

Speaking of sleeping, Gerard didn’t want anything to do with it.

He knew that he would regret the dreams that he was going to have. Even if they were good they were still bad, nothing could compare to the real Frank.

The dreams seemed to have gotten worse in the past days, escalating from when we met our protagonist again to now. Was he punishing himself? Was he turning himself into a nervous wreck bent on killing for a person who had used him and now wanted to rid himself of him.

He refused to think of Frank as anything but his soulmate. He would understand. He had to understand.

He was troubled, walking home and into the more populated district. He didn’t recognize the person that came up next to him, he didn’t even realize he was there.

“You’re getting good, Gee,” Pete said with a smile in his direction.

It threw Gerard off and he jumped out of his thoughts, spinning his neck around to look to his friend who was walking next to him as if he had never gone.

He gasped in surprise before adjusting. “Frank taught me well.” He smiled wryly at the sentiment. Don’t get me wrong, reader, he was actually pretty happy that his friend was here, a friend that solidified the fact that his fantasy of a few weeks wasn’t just a dream. He was his anchor to his other life, but he was surprised that he was not in Portland. Had he came to see Mikey? His brother was not going to like that.

Pete smiled at that and put his hands in his pockets. He looked around before continuing. “He misses you,” he stated.

Gerard’s heart hit a pang and picked up. He knew who he was talking about. His voice dropped to a whisper, harsh and clasping at his soul. “Misses me?” he asks. He can’t believe that Frank actually wants him, that he actually thinks of him. It comforts him, knowing that he cares, that he still thinks about him.

“He wanted me to check up on you,” he said, shrugging. He is calm, calmer than Gerard is in that moment. He was in shock. He couldn’t believe Frank still wanted him, Frank still cared about him. It seemed like years away. He wanted him. He wanted him so badly.

But he bit it back. He wasn’t going to make it seem like he was struggling. Frank wanted him to be happy. He was going to be happy goddamn it. For Frank.

“I’m good,” Gerard said truthfully. If only Pete knew exactly why.

“Yeah?” Pete asked as they turned the corner together, “He’ll be glad to hear that.”

Gerard nodded, feeling his heart rot out at the fact that he loved him so much. He tried to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to let Pete know how desperate he was for him.

“How has he been?” he asks. He’s a little surprised that he is so calm about this on the outside, that they walked along and no one could tell that he was burning alive from the inside.

“He’s lonely,” Pete frowned to himself before going quiet.

Gerard looked away. “It’s all for him,” he said. He could tell he was getting nearer to his house. Mikey wouldn’t want Pete to come in. Maybe they could go talk over coffee. There was a coffee place next to his apartment.

“What? The murders?” Pete asked turning to him as they reached his complex. He had the same idea about it. He didn’t want to face Mikey.

Gerard nodded. He didn’t want to say yes. He didn’t want to face it to anybody. It was weird, he didn’t want to admit. It was instinct now.

The two didn’t speak for some time.

Pete broke the silence after standing in the cold for a moment, hands in pockets and looking at the people who weren’t passing by. Gerard didn’t know what to say because there was so much that he wanted to ask.

“How’s Mikey?” he asked his friend, shimmying from foot to foot. Gerard feels a little bad. he knows that his friend is awkward, that he’s in love and hurting.

He doesn’t want to let him know that he was lesser in Mikey’s life than Mikey was in his. He knew how important his brother was to his friend.

“He’s good,” he nods. He beckons to his friend, walking in the direction of the cafe. “Wanna get coffee and talk?” he asked, looking back at him. He was getting colder and he needed some coffee in his system.

“Sure,” Pete sighs and follows him into the warmth of the building. The light is warm and bright and Gerard could really get away from all the blood.

While they’re jogging to the softly illuminated cafe Pete asks another question. His face is braced against the cold, using the fabric of his sweater to keep out the biting cold. It’s red like the rest of his exposed face. His voice is muffled, “Has he-um, has he talked about me?” he asked with a little blush. His lips dance delightedly, like Gerard isn’t going to tell him something that breaks his heart.

Gerard felt a little bad. He sighed and looked at him with a small smile, pitying him. He opened the door to the place for Pete. “No, sorry. I brought it up a few days ago and he just got angry, really. He doesn’t like bringing it up,” he said. He shrugged as the door closed.

Pete frowned at that and walked up to the counter, taking out his wallet and glancing at the menu. Gerard followed him, sighing. “Oh,” Pete said, sad voice. His shoulders were slumped and his frown was a crease on his mouth.

He gets the attention of the barista anyway. “Hot cocoa, please,” he asks her, bringing out a few dollars to hand to the girl. His brow was furrowed as he handed the bill over.

The girl writes it down and turns to Gerard.

Gerard gets his own money out and asks for a black coffee. It’s a little surreal, like he doesn’t even have a knife in his jacket, hidden away from the world. It was weird to remember the thing he had already forgotten. It was something so oddly forgotten, something that is so important, so trivial. It was weird, but he knew that he was going to talk about it to Pete. No one but Pete knows that he kills. It’s refreshing having someone to know his secret. He was bouncing off the walls not having anyone to talk to about this. The fact that he hadn’t talked about it with others make it something that he usually pushes to the back of his brain.

He frowns, thinking and watches Pete who had his own frown. They stood at the counter, the girl who had taken their money making their beverages on the bar against the wall.

Pete waited with him till they both got their coffees and walked to a table.They sat down together, taking a sip.

They were both still silent, sipping coffee and cocoa, not looking at each other. Gerard underestimated how awkward their first reunion would be.

Another few seconds went by without them talking. Pete had gotten silent, staring at his cocoa in stoic silence. He played with the edges, melancholy and forlorn.

Gerard felt bad for his friend. He really loved Mikey, But Mikey had given him the cold shoulder ever since he found out who he really was. At least Frank and Gerard still had the ability to work things out. Mikey hated everything to do with Pete. He didn’t love him, he didn’t want him. And Gerard felt terrible for that.

He wondered if there was really no chance of salvaging them. He wondered if Mikey would be alone forever, without Pete and without happiness. He wondered if he would truly hold the grudge that long.

His brother was in a much more simpler state than Gerard and Pete. His world was still black and white, no matter how torn it was.

He was reminded now, that no matter how old they got, he would still be older. He would still have to protect his brother, keep him in his innocent state. It would break him to find out what Gerard was doing. It would kill him to know that Gerard was a killer. And he feared that conversation.

He shivered in on himself. Mikey would die if he told him. He would off himself. He didn’t want that to happen. He loved his brother and knew him well. And he knew that he was riding on Gerard being innocent, despite all of the evidence given to him.

But this was all he had to hold onto, Gerard was all he had anymore. Frank had taken away Ray and Pete. He knew that it would kill him if Frank had taken Gerard away, too.

He was especially concerned what would happen when they fled. Mikey surely wouldn’t come with them like Pete probably would. He wouldn’t want to. Frank killed his best friend and only Gerard was blinded by love.

His brother would stay behind when Frank and Gerard left the country and he didn’t want to have to face that. So maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’ll just deal with it, let it go. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He knew that it would come back to haunt him later.

But he couldn’t deal with all of it, he just wanted to be happy. He knew that he didn’t deserve that, but Mikey didn’t deserve the hate that was given to him by this. He didn’t want to have to look his brother in the eye and tell him he was lying. But he didn’t want anyone else to do it.

He didn’t want to have to kill Mikey. (He shuddered again despite being warm.)

He could never tell his brother. He could never let him know. Terrible things would happen if he did.

He shivered at the fact that he could find out, he could believe what some were saying about Gerard and turn on his brother. His reaction might be volatile..

He knew that he was going through a rough patch when Gerard was gone, but to find that it wasn’t kidnap would wreck him. it would change everything he ever thought about his brother.

maybe he could bring him around to Pete again. Maybe he could condition his brother to not hating the group of killers he has chosen to be around. He would probably never come around to Frank, Gerard couldn’t blame him. But maybe he could care for Gerard still, when he found out.

He wondered if the plan was a shot in the dark or if he was actually getting somewhere with all of this. he didn’t really know what he would be thinking.

It hit him like a train.

He didn’t really know his brother anymore, now did he. He wondered how far apart the brothers had gotten after the events that transpired. H wondered if Mikey didn’t already think him the killer.

He shivered on himself, that was impossible. Mikey thought the world of him. He cared about him a lot. He would never think that unless Gerard legit killed somebody in front of him. He loved his brother.

He was just getting paranoid. He needed to calm the fuck down and get back to this nonexistent conversation. Even if it was just as depressing as the idea of having to murder his own brother. He loved to kill, but that was not killing. That was murder. He was a murderer, but this was different, this wasn’t a hobby. This was cold blood. He would never lose that much humanity that he would turn on him.

He shook his head, before anyone had even said anything again. “What else has Frank been saying?” he asked, blowing on the hot coffee. He was already warmed up in the cafe but he still felt cold. The cold of the death of his brother, potentially. The death of every other innocent that sat down on his shoulders whenever he thought hard enough to let him.

Pete shrugged. “The usual, you know. He’s just sad now. I feel a little bad for him, it’s fucking terrible,” he says, smiling poorly into his cocoa. The challenges of being a friend.

Gerard marvelled at how simple it all was. Pete truly had no idea what it was like to be involved with a murderer.

He had no clue to what Gerard was going through, what Mikey was, what Frank was.

Gerard imagined his lover all alone, the person he loved and the person who loved him. He wanted him to be happy. He wanted to stay with him. But it didn’t matter what he wanted, because this was fate, love, trying to keep them apart. This was fate fucking everything up. It was testing them, making them come back together. He would force them back together even if it tore apart everything. He didn’t care how long it would take, how much it would break him. Gerard only wanted Frank. No matter what. No matter Mikey, no matter anything.

He wanted his lover and he wanted him back. He wanted to run away with him, wanted to love him and be with him.

He vaguely thought of his brother again. He could wait, the guilt would subside till he was not giddy with the thought of his homicidal lover. Mikey could be put on a backshelf.

“I bet,” Gerard mumbled and took another sip of his drink. He pulled his mind from his thoughts and infested himself in not being a total asshole. His friend deserved his help, not pity or absentmindedness or anything like that. He needed his friend and his attention and Gerard was going to give it to him. He deserved that much.

Pete didn’t acknowledge his words, though, past a flick of his eyes towards his friend across the table, like he knew something that Gerard didn’t, or that he thought of something that Gerard never could. It wasn’t mean or anything, just knowing. Gerard had seen the expression a few times over the course of knowing him.

Gerard catalogued his eyes for later, a look that he had come to easily identify. Mikey did something similar. They were alike in the weirdest of ways.

He really did wish that they would have ended up together, they would have been so cute. They could have been good friends. Frank and Gerard, Pete and Mikey.

This was one of the times, sitting in the coffee shop, regretting that they were not normal lovers. Everything was so fucked up it hurt for him to think about. He didn’t want it to be like this.

it was never supposed to be like this. He should have been nice, soft. Frank should have been his dog loving boyfriend who went to work and held Gerard. Gerard was an artist, he could have painted them a nice life.

Pete could have been Mikey’s lover.

Everything could have been good. But nothing ever goes Gerard’s way. Nothing ever gives him the time of day to pitch his fucking grand idea and make everything.

He sighed and took comfort in the fact that maybe another universe had that, another universe was perfect. And then there was a universe where he never met Frank at all. Wouldn’t that have been easy.

Easier than this bullshit, he’d tell you.

Pete looked at him again with the eyes and Gerard could tell that he was worried about him, but he just wasn’t telling him. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly to look at Gerard. He knew that he was worried, watching him.

Gerard put his head in his hands. What was he going to do with himself? What was he going to do with everyone else?

He was fucking up at every moment, every turn. And when he thought it was good, the night made it bad again. He hated it, why couldn’t he be turned into a flower. They didn’t have to deal with this shit. He could barely deal with this shit.

He looked up at Pete again, who was now watching him with an ever concerning look.

“Everything is so hard, Pete,” he said to his friend. He lamented to him about the growing stress of his world, of his thoughts, in that one sentence. And Pete had gone through this enough that he knew.

Gerard sighed again and sat up fully, taking a breath. “Y’know, I think you should talk to Mikey,” he says out of nowhere and he himself was kind of not expecting it. He wipes his face of the tired feeling he has. To no avail, of course.

Pete perks up at that and the conversation is in full swing. They know both know it is now.

“What do you mean?” he asks his friend, the cocoa pushed aside and no longer steaming.

Gerard shakes his head and uses his hands to gesticulate. “He needs someone...else. He needs to get out and despite everything, he loves you. Y’know?” he says to his friend.

Pete nods his head slowly, left to right, weighing the options. “Well, I don’t know. He’s probably feeling a little threatened with all that’s happened and everything. So maybe I should not mess with him. He might feel that the past is coming back,” Pete said, explaining all of Gerard’s fears.

“Yeah,” his friend starts, “but maybe, just maybe it’ll work. He needs you. I’m worried about him.” he says, taking Pete’s hands in his. He knows that with logic Pete will come around.

He just wants his brother to be happy and he knows that he can be happy with Pete, that he will be happy with Pete because that’s just another puzzle piece fixed in his perfect life. Even if there’s still pieces missing, he knows that they’ll be together soon. Everyone.

Mikey was kind of worried for his brother. He had not come home and Gerard hadn’t said where he was going all those hours before. He wondered if he was just taking a walk, taking his time, gaining some space.

Mikey had been up his ass for a little while. He was just worried about him, trying to take care of him. He had made the mistake of leaving him alone before. And even if the past was in the past, he still didn’t want to repeat it.

But it was awfully cold outside and much too late. He hadn’t seen or heard from his brother in a few hours. How long did a simple walk take? And all the shops were virtually closed, it was midnight on a weekday. Nobody was out and about. There was nothing but sleeping people and sleepless streets. He had to be either lost, in danger, or doing something illicit.

He doubted the last one, but the doubt crept into his head.

He shook his head and decided to go out after Gerard, to try to find him or at least take a few walks of his own. He would make himself useful, get a job, juggling it through school.

It was too late for that, really. But who was he really kidding? No matter how he tried to justify this, he was purely just searching the immediate area for Gerard. if he didn’t find Gerard, he would worry. But he was an adult, so he would probably just go to bed.

Gerard didn’t need coddling. He was his older brother, by the way. He was a few years his senior, he could definitely take care of himself.

He got off the couch and shrugged on a coat anyway. The cold just keeps getting colder. His bones just seem to get more chillier. Maybe it was because he was too thin, gaining nothing but a gnawing in his stomach, he reminded himself that he was actually putting on weight.

But the cold still bit in him like a ravaged dog. Ice was forming, snow was falling. Christmas was nearing, but he didn’t feel festive, he just felt kind of broke.

He didn’t mind it much, he quite liked winter. There was a beautiful sort of barrenness to it all that was comforting. Now that his life was stripped down to the bones, he was getting increasingly comfortable with the dead leaves and the barren lands.

it was always nicer in the winter, he felt more alive.

There were too many dead things coming after him, too many skeletons. No, he did not mind winter and the scenery that came with it.

He locked the door behind, rubbing his hands together. The doorknob was cold and the hallway was just freezing. Outside of his and Gerard’s apartment it was scarce, even terrifying now that he had to pass Frank’s old place, knowing that he was near to a monster like that was just terrifying. He didn’t want to think about it, so he adverted his eyes as fast as he could. He didn’t want to deal with it. He didn’t care enough.

He set off walking, still trying to create heat, moving as he walked down the stairs. ignoring Frank’s door because of the memories it brought.

He went over all the places that he could be in his head. all the places that he might. He shouldn’t have gone far, and if he had he would probably doubled back by now. He just wondered what his brother was up to.

His legs were shivering in his thin jeans, no hope of getting them warm. His eyes watered and he decided where he was going to walk when he got out of the considerable warmth of the building. He looked around, several people milling about around, not looking at him or his face pitifully half tucked behind his collar.

The coffee shop was a maybe, down the road from them. The lights flashed bright onto the street and the dusting of snow. The snow, which was once a nice white near the inner sidewalk and sludgy gray on the outside was now bathed in a fairly uniform yellow, tinted with the street lamp and the establishments light. He would start there, double back on himself and go into another place he could be. He could have been at a bookstore, but that was unlikely. He kept forgetting to factor in the night. It was too dark for nearly everything. Gerard couldn’t have been anywhere but that all night coffee shop.

He shivered and held himself. He didn’t want to think about things that his brother could be getting up to in the night. He didn’t want to think about what he was getting planted in his head.

He wanted to go home, turn around, sleep it off. He didn’t want to find Gerard in something dangerous. Something like killing someone. He didn’t want to think of that at all. Maybe he should just turn back, go home, keep out of Gerard’s business. He didn’t want to interfere, maybe he would get bad, maybe he would kill him.

No! That was blasphemous. He didn’t think about it, if he thought about it that would make it more real. And he didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want it to manifest in anyway more than it already had. He did not want his fears to get better, get bigger, learn and mold into what he most feared. He couldn’t let that happen.

He had to think about the mundane. People at school, the color of the apartment complex next to theirs. He had to think about all the things that usually he wouldn’t want to, but now would save his sanity. The color of the sky, the way the wind felt on his face when he was running.

Running away from Gerard, chasing his brother with a knife. Shut up. Shut up.

it was not like they were alone, they weren’t. They were in a building with other people. A handful of other people.

He didn’t like to think about it all. He wanted to keep it down, keep it hidden. He was losing it. Gerard would never hurt him, even if he did hurt other people. He was his brother, that had to mean something. Right?

He hoped. He hoped to God that if he was a killer, Mikey would get mercy.

He walked to the coffee shop, taking a look in the window. He didn’t want to go in unless he saw Gerard alone, he didn’t want to deal with people this late.

And even if Gerard was alone, he didn’t want his brother to know he was snooping on him.

He would have been angry if he found out that Mikey was watching him go about his business.

He didn’t particularly like what he saw. Gerard was not alone.

He saw Gerard, with Pete, talking over coffee. He could tell that they were awkward, hushed yet stifled. But their faces held some sort of stoic importance.

Pete was taking away Gerard because Frank told him to. He was going to hurt Gerard again. Oh, God, he was going to hurt Gerard again. He was going to take him away again.

He was glad that ever since Pete was exposed he hadn’t really trusted him. That was good on his part. He knew what his instincts were. That was good.

But this was not.

This was a sort of hushed meeting of two. And Gerard didn’t look scared, so Mikey started to worry where his alliances were.

Gerard wasn’t upset or anything, just quiet, thinking. Neither man spoke or anything, just sat, sipped, occasionally stared.

Till one broke the silence that had the other neck snapping up to attention.

They didn’t seem to be speaking, they just seemed to be talking. Words hitting walls of the other person. They looked interested in what they had to say, but it seemed to fly over their heads.

Gerard looked weary. And Mikey thought that he was going to be okay. This was a 180 from the person that Mikey had been seeing increasingly. Was he lying to Mikey? Or was this a product of Pete?

It was as if this was a different person than his brother, a person he wasn’t quite sure that he knew. He wanted to, though. He wanted to know this side of his brother. He wanted to know him. But Gerard was shutting him out.

He wanted to know everything that he wasn’t telling him, everything that Mikey was too afraid to ask. He wanted to know the Gerard that he really was. The one that was probably a killer.

Although, he was afraid of what he was, what he would see if he knew as much as other monsters.

But it still hurt, not knowing and not wanting to know the part of his brothers others did. He used to be the one that knew him, top to bottom, side to side. He was his confidant and best friend. Now he was nothing but a brother. And that felt like a flimsy title.

He didn’t know his brother anymore and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. And he wasn’t sure who really did.

He shivered and studied Pete’s face, moving into the shadows to watch them speak to each other, growing more animated by the second.

He looks like he always did. Mikey remembered the curves of his lips and the ravines of his cheeks, the way his skin moved over him like the sea. He was still beautiful, he still remembered.

He remembered all the bad things he did, all the things that he could have done. He didn’t love Mikey, no, he was just there to sway his brother, remind him of all the bad things done to him.

Mikey didn’t want him hanging out with Pete. He didn’t want him to be reminded of all these things. He didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of everything. He didn’t want to fraternize with monsters.

Maybe he liked him, maybe he would go back and leave Mikey all alone. Maybe he was here to fuck everything up again, or torment Mikey.

He didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t want to be betrayed again. Gerard was his only friend. He didn’t want to lose him.

He was so scared of losing him.

He took one last glance and walked away from his brother and the person who had taken everything away from him.

Pete was still the love of his short, ignorant existence as a hurting person. But he had swooped in to get information, nothing all. He didn’t love Mikey, didn’t want Mikey. He should just stop kidding himself. He was just here to ruin his life now, just for fun. Or maybe if Mikey wasn’t the main focus, he was just here to take away Gerard.

Pete wouldn’t take Gerard away from him again. He needed his brother, he was his only friend. Pete had others. Pete had Frank that he could talk to.

Mikey was so afraid of being alone.

He shook his head, hands in pockets, face towards the ground. He walked home alone and scared for Gerard. He was terrified for him, terrified of what he really was, of what he could be if someone just let him.

He wouldn’t let him.

Mikey walked himself home and trembled as he took off his coat and closed the door.

Gerard didn’t know that he saw him. He didn’t know that he knew what he was. What he could be.

He shook his head and put his head in his hands. His brother wasn’t a killer, he wasn’t a murderer. He couldn’t be. He was his brother. Mikey knew him better than everyone else. He would know if he was a monster.

He wondered when it had started. When Gerard had turned into this person, who kept secrets from his brother. Was it all the time? Or was this a recent development?

He wondered how much he really knew about him.

His room was a sanctuary and he decided not to come out of it, sitting on his bed in denial. He locked the door and wouldn’t let his brother in to talk to him. He couldn’t let him in, who knew what he would do?

He listened for the sound of him coming in and tried to not remember all the red flags he should have seen before. He wouldn’t give himself fodder for this nightmare.

He was going to throw up, his brother was his brother and he knew what his brother did. Did he?

He shook his head and put his head in his hands again. If he couldn’t see the light he wouldn’t see the truth. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want to see anything that had to do with this.

Ignorance is bliss but it hurt as much as enlightenment.

Why did his brother have to lie to him? Why did he have to give him all this terrible anxiety?

It was all Frank’s fault. He set this shit into motion. He made Gerard do this, made him into whatever he was.

Nothing would ever be the same because of Frank, because of what he had done to Gerard.

He had taken away everything he loved, soiled it. He turned it Pete into something Mikey couldn’t stand to look at. He turned Gerard into a killer, someone he was terrified of.

He accepted it now, Gerard was a killer.

He let out a troubled sob, head in his hands. He really hoped Gerard didn’t come home. He couldn’t stand being in a house with a murderer. He would kill him when he got the chance, Mikey was sure of it.

He didn’t want to be here anymore. He needed to get out of here. He was terrified of his brother now, he was scared that he would hurt him.

He didn’t know who to go to. He didn’t know who he could go to.

He shivered in on himself and closed his eyes. He could sleep it off. He would sleep it off.

“He’s never gonna want me again. Is he?” Pete asked, toying with the half empty and luke warm cup. He didn’t look at Gerard, he knew that he was pitying him.

Gerard didn’t answer, just took a sip of his own drink. He knew exactly what he was talking about and he didn’t know how to respond without breaking his heart.

Pete sighed and pushed the cup away.

Gerard looked up and really studied his face. For the first time, Gerard could see that his friend looked tired. Weariness had settled over their twisted little group.

Gerard was a fool to think that they were ever going to be okay. But he could try. He was going to try.

He sighed. He knew that this sad reunion was coming to an end. But at least it gave him hope that Frank still wanted him, that someone could help Gerard get him back.

He wondered fleetingly what would happen to Mikey if he and Frank were reunited.

He would worry with that later, everything was getting better and he wasn’t going to risk that with worry. He was going to savor the good times he was having now, even if they weren’t with Frank, they were the best he was going to get till he was.

He said goodbye to Pete who looked forlornly out the window, all semblance of happiness gone, drained slowly.

“Don’t worry, Mikey will come around,” he said to his friend, grasping at his hand before leaving the shop.

He walked home quietly, contemplative. The knife thudded against his pants, inside his long jacket. Nobody knew what he was except for Pete and Frank. He wanted to keep it that way.

He was glad that Mikey didn’t know, that his brother was just as clueless as the rest of the population.

He wondered what would happen if his brother found out. Would he tell the police, like he did to Frank? Or would he stay quiet? He wondered what he would have to do if his brother might tell the police.

He shivered. He didn’t want to kill him. He didn’t want to have to.

But Frank would probably make him. He already didn’t like him, he had wanted to kill him before. Gerard stopped him just narrowly. He didn’t want his brother to end up like all their victims. He was a person, he was his brother. He couldn’t let anything bad happen to him.

He walked into his apartment, taking off his jacket and shaking off the cold, the knife was stuck to him like a magnet by the sticky blood. He pried it off and put it in his bedroom, closing the door after it had hit the bed. He would deal with it later, he was hungry.

The conversation with Pete seemed to leave him with a hollow feeling. He loved catching up with him. It wasn’t really catching up if he was just focused on staring at his drink. It wasn’t really catching up when they were tripping around each other.

He sighed, suddenly weary. All these thoughts took the high he got out of killing right off. He should be feeling good. With every breath not taken he was being etched more as a legend. With every kill Frank was more proud of him.

And he wanted him. Frankie wanted him still, despite everything.

He pressed the still tender skin around his neck, they were a dull yellow now, dotting his skin in a pitiful reminder. He could not let them go. They were all he had except the scar on his hand. He needed the reminder of Frank on him for as long as possible. Till he could be with him again.

He sighed and sat down at the quiet table. The house felt cold, lonely. It was around midnight, green numbers on the clock pulsating fifteen minutes after the witching hour.

He wondered where Mikey was, but due to the time he was probably asleep. He had a few classes tomorrow and he had been sleeping more regularly. He wondered how long he had been asleep for.

He fished for an apple in the refrigerator. He would deal with him tomorrow, tomorrow when it was better and they were happy. Everything got better when the sun arose. Everything got better when it was morning and they were well slept and the darkness couldn’t hurt them anymore.

He shook his head, taking a bite as he sat down again, feeling the cold of the outside still in his bones. It was a bitch of a winter.

It was nice, though. Meeting Pete, killing that woman. It was nice to finally see his friend again, to have someone know his secret so he wasn’t crawling out of his skin every day, looking at Mikey and wanting to squeal like a pig. It was hard to hold himself back everyday, to lie to his brother everyday. Mikey knew everything about him, it was hard to keep lying to him like this. He didn’t want to, but it was for the greater good.

Mikey didn’t know. So he didn’t have to kill him. End of story, his brother would live another day. He wasn’t too sure about the long run, though. He shivered, taking a few bites of his food.

Tomorrow he would deal with everything. Tomorrow things would be better and he would be better. Everything would be better tomorrow. The sun would rise tomorrow and everything would be okay. It had to be.


	6. Like Whiplash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another kinda late one. Why do I do this to myself?

Pete slipped the picture to Frank, pushing it through the little hole in the glass. It was of Gerard, looking up with a knife in his hand, huddled over a body. His eyes were bright in the darkness staring away from Frank and off into the distance. He was beautiful.

He had taken the picture when he was waiting for Gerard to get done with his kill the night before. Frank had heard about it on the television. It had been pretty brutal. But that was his lover for you, he was a better killer than Frank ever was.

Frank was too methodical. He killed to get it out of him. He never really enjoyed the art of it. He killed to get it out of the way.

Gerard was a different kind of beast. He liked the ritual. Frank could tell, even from before.

Frank knew that Pete did not take it with Gerard’s knowing. He didn’t really mind, as long as he got his picture of him. He wondered if he talked to him.

His lips were red, cheeks flushed from the cold. He was beautiful. Of course he was beautiful. He was everything. He looked as pure as snow, just like Frank left him.

Frank’s heart squeezed as his eyes scanned the picture for anymore signs of love woven into it.

He saw the knife, newly blood splattered, pale skin on the nighttime. Pete was pretty good at taking pictures, he had to say. But he was focusing more on the prop and subject. The knife gleaned with cruelty and a sense of purpose. The knife sent a new sort of sick hope in him. He looked comfortable with the blade, cold steel smiling at the pain it had brought. Gerard was a natural. Like he was born to have it in his hand, fresh and young in his hand. Frank was right with him, he was born for this. His beautiful protege.

He was so proud of his baby boy, his potential was realized. There was always a silver lining; if Frank hadn’t left him he wouldn’t have been able to see his potential.

He smiled and stared at it for a few more seconds fondly.

“Thanks,” he sighed, slipping it in his pocket. He looked up at his friend. “Did you get a chance to talk to him?” he asked. He bit the dried skin on his lip away, staring at his friend with a bit of a furrowed brow. He crossed his legs under the table, face frozen in curiosity. He really hoped he did, that would mean their messages could be relayed. That would mean that Gerard had talked to Pete and that they were still okay.

His eyes are trained on his friend who smiles widely at him in the next moment. His smile was reassuring to Frank who was a little bit worried about what the answer might be. He wanted to be able to talk to Gerard, even if it was only through Pete. He needed this reminder of him so he would never forget.

But still, he wanted to hear his voice, touch him. He wanted to love him so badly.

A sigh came from Pete’s mouth, and he licked his lips as he started, still smiling. “He’s happy. But, not entirely, yet. I can tell that he’s been a little fucked up,” he says, gauging Frank’s reaction. His shoulders did a bit of a shrug and Frank could feel his eyes on him.

His smile faded, nostalgia turning rotten.

He met them, his own joy seemingly evaporating to the more sublime side of things. He didn’t want to mess this up. He didn’t want to keep Gerard from healing. This meant that he was healing.

Maybe they weren’t destined to kill together. Frank had been fleeting in Gerard’s fruitful career as a murderer. Maybe he would just have to accept that he wasn’t what Gerard really needed. He was never what he needed, he knew that.

But he wanted to be. He still desperately wanted to be what Gerard wanted.

He grit his teeth at the thought of anybody else filling Gerard’s needs. It was his job and his job alone. Gerard was his. Gerard was always going to be his. He had to be. They were meant to be together.

But he shook his head and swallowed his pride anyway. He had to let him heal.

“Alright. I have to-I have to leave him alone,” he said with a sigh, taking his fingers and entangling them together in solitude, companionship. It stung more than he thought it would, more than he wanted to admit. But he didn’t let it come to the surface. Even though Pete could see it. Pete could always see when Frank was trying to bullshit himself. When he was trying to bullshit everyone else. It was what a best friend was for.

He knew that he wanted Gerard, that he didn’t want to leave Gerard alone. But out of the two, Pete was the one who knew that better than Frank. He always knew better than Frank when it came to these affairs. He was just better at human emotion.

But he really didn’t understand how complicated it was, what was going through Frank’s head all the time. Hell, Frank wasn’t even sure half the god damn day.

“Frank,” Pete starts, knowing how distressed his friend really is. He leaned forward, almost pressing his face against the glass, getting as close as possible. The glass separated them by an inch, but Frank was touched by his eyes, so wide and sincere they closed the distance between the two men. He gouged his way into his brain for the best results. He had to know what was going on. He had to know.

Pete wasn’t fucking around anymore. He knew what this meant, what this would mean. He knew much better than Frank ever could. Like I said, he was just better at this than Frank was. He was an outsider, so he could always make much more rational decisions.

Frank should have listened to Pete more. He was too impulsive.

The way he said the words were soft, caressing all of Frank’s pride, all of his hope for Gerard. Pete knew what to do even if Frank didn’t. Pete looked deep into his eyes and stunned him. “Gerard is the New Jay,” he says. His lips spoke around a new hope for the two lovers. The Jays.

He could have figured it from the knife but somehow hearing it outloud, confirmed was something else. It was something beautiful, like relief, pride maybe. He didn’t know what exactly it was, what it could be. He just knew those two, but the others were stewing around in him and he couldn’t quite identify them. He was bad at feelings. Bad at thinking. Pretty fucking good at killing.

Maybe that was why he became a murderer.

Frank’s blood starts to weep, rolling in his veins and spilling out in disbelief(?) or maybe just something that he couldn’t pinpoint. The anonymous feelings still rolled inside of his stomach like the sea, as calm as a tornado.

He knew that it was Gerard. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready to accept it. This just meant all the more reason to break out for Gerard and he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to hurt him. Even if he was his own type of killer.

He couldn’t believe that he was the monster, like Frank was. It hit him now, Gerard was a monster like Frank. He would ponder more on how he turned his baby into something terrible.

The pride was quickly starting to diminish, starting to be replaced by horror.

Even if they were slowly shifting, he was still stuck. Still stuck between pride and horror. Gerard was on a short killing spree, a brutal murderer that officials couldn’t pinpoint. Frank killed every few weeks, but Gerard was killing every few days. This wasn’t need, this was revenge. But revenge for what? Did Gerard resent him? Did Gerard want him back or just wanted to tell him to stay away.

Maybe he should ask Pete to ask him what his motives were because he wasn’t understanding. They were hateful, maybe? ‘Wish you were here’ may have something to do with hating Frank for trying to keep away, maybe?

His shoulders shivered, even though the room was not cold. He looked up at Pete, speechless. He must have looked confused, searching for the motive in his friend’s chocolate eyes.

pete patiently explained to Frank, who was still sitting with wide eyes and an open mouth as he was talking.

“He wants you. He’s doing all of this for you, so you’ll want him,” he says. His eyes show a glint of excitement for his friend. He would be happy to see Gerard and Frank get back together. They were the best couple to come out of crime. Everyone who liked them wanted them together.

He looked down at the table again, averting his eyes from Pete’s. He didn’t know what to say to this. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he really wanted to say anything to his friend. He was sure that this was going to be a terrible idea. And he didn’t want to admit that because he wanted Gerard more. But he couldn’t help the fear.

“Frank!” Pete called his attention back to him, excitedly banging on the table lightly. Frank’s head snapped up to his friend from his bitter contemplation. “He wants you! Do you know what this means?” he asks.

Yet again Frank is asked a question he wasn’t sure that he wanted to answer. Frank blanches, pale and clammy in a matter of seconds. He knows what this means. He knows what this means and he doesn’t want to face the consequences of his heinous acts.

“It means I am going to try to kill him again. And I am going to succeed,” he says in a chilling whisper. He doesn’t want to hurt Gerard anymore. He doesn’t want to get out, to be able to hurt him.

His trial was coming up, he was going to be either put away for live or sentenced to death.

Everything he knew, all his plans gone. All of them are down the drain. He would never be able to resist Gerard, loving him. He would break out, just to see him. When he deserved to rot and never come near Gerard again.

Knuckles white, clenched fist, Frank doesn’t look to his friend for some time who is watching him with a sickeningly hopeful look.

He was just as bad as Gerard. Just as stupid as him for wanting his love. He was dangerous, volatile. Couldn’t they see that? Couldn’t anyone see that?

He tries to convince himself that Gerard doesn’t want him, that Gerard was not the person that Frank was in love with. He would kill him, he knew that he would. He didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want to be in the position where he could.

He was terrified of having that happen again. He killed everything, he killed everyone. Gerard would let him. He already had.

Frank destroyed him, slowly. He chipped away at all he was till he was only what Frank wanted him to be. No one knew it but him. Gerard was not Gerard anymore. Gerard was a shell, a monster, a fantasy that Frank made for his own amusement.

He didn’t want to think about him, his face or his body or the bruises just yellowing on his neck.

He wanted to cry, actually. He wanted to cry for the man he loved. The man he destroyed. He couldn’t save him, he was already dead. But he could preserve him. He could make sure he was alright.

He didn’t want to ruin him anymore.

He pursed his lips and looked away from Pete. He felt the scar, gently scratching his skin when he ran over it with his fingers. Forever. How could they be together forever if Frank was going to kill him before that?

He remembered the dancing, the screaming, all the blood. Gerard didn’t deserve this. Nobody deserved this. He loved him too much to ruin him anymore but he knew that was what he was going to end up doing.

“Don’t do this, Frank. He needs you,” Pete said to his friend, trying to get him to look him in the eye. He doesn’t want to, he looks at the table, avoiding him as much as he can.

Pete sighs and backs away. He scowls at his friend, furrowing his eyebrows. “I don’t know why you keep fucking around, Frank. He loves you. He is always going to love you,” he says harshly to his friend.

His patience was growing thin. He didn’t know why Frank was hurting himself like this, why he was keeping away from Gerard. He was hurting him, too.

“He’s going to die,” Frank lamented, voice thin and trying to string itself together. It was not succeeding. The words felt thin, like razors in his mouth, taking his skin and scratching it up, gouging him out.

Frank shakes his head, he doesn’t want this to happen to Gerard. He doesn’t want to harm him again. He is so scared of hurting him again. He doesn’t know how he’ll stop himself if he breaks out to be with Gerard, and if so they will never be happy. There will always be something.

Whether it’s being on the lamb, Mikey, his own fuckups, Gerard’s discontentment. There is always gonna be something that will make them unable to be together happily. He just wants Gerard to be happy.

He doesn’t want to ruin that for him. He doesn’t want to hurt him. He knows that he can be truly happy if he tried.

He remembers what he did. He put him through hell. He tried to kill him. He could never forget how it felt.

Eyes closed, he could still hear the screams ringing through his ears as he slept, whenever he awoke. He didn’t want to induce them ever again. He loved Gerard. He loved him so much and that was better to do from afar. He had learned his lesson. And he wasn’t going to hurt Gerard anymore.

He closed his eyes and felt his smile, seared into his skin, his favorite type of currency. Everytime Gerard smiled at him it was like catching a fallen star. Making him happy was like striking gold. He wanted to do it all the time.

His smile changed to the looks of betrayal that littered the last few days that they were together. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, eyes dark in hatred. He didn’t want that Gerard. He never wanted to hurt him again. So he would never want him again.

He had learned his lesson. And he knew what would happen. He knew that he would fuck up and everything would go to shit again. He knew that that had to happen at some point in time.

He didn’t deserve Gerard, and Gerard didn’t deserve this curse that was his lover. He didn’t know why he wanted him back.

Frank doesn’t look up. Pete tries to get through to him again. He didn’t want everything to go to shit for his friend just because he was stubborn. He didn’t want to have to drill it into him that he wasn’t going to hurt Gerard again, but he did. So he tried to the best that he could. He knew that this was important to get through to Frank, he knew that he would have to make him pay attention to this.

Gerard would only be happy if he kept killing. If he kept killing with Frank. He deserved to be happy.

“Frank, you know that Gerard can handle his own shit. Do you?” he asks his friend, looking down yet again at his face, covered in so many ghosts, so much regret.

He feels terrible for him. Knowing what he does, doing what he did must have been terrible. Pete can’t begin to imagine how he felt. But he knew that he was always going to be beating himself up over this.

Pete had made his own mistakes. Different mistakes, gentler mistakes. He would never know how Frank felt. But he could imagine, amplify his own pain. Because he had been an asshole to Mikey. He had walked out and fucked up, and hurt him and loved him till he stopped loving back.

Now he would never get back Mikey.

He hid that thought away from Frank. That wasn’t important now. He had to focus on his friend.

Frank was lucky to have Gerard to still want him. Pete had no one. Nothing but his thoughts kept him company and awkwardly filled the hole in his heart. He didn’t have anything, and he was sure that Frank was forgetting that quickly. He shook his head again. Focus on getting them back together.

“Then he doesn’t need me anymore,” he says, shaking his head and pursing his lips. He can’t get the screams out, he can’t get the screams out of his head, the muffled clawing and the sound of sobs through a pillow. An angel cried out to Frank through the white fluff and he was smothering it. He had nearly killed him. Didn’t these people notice that he was bad?

He wanted to itch at his head, to gouge out the bad thoughts, all the terrible things he did. But he could never forget. He was sure that every time he would look at Gerard he would see it. He would see the hatred that he felt for himself.

He was going to try to kill him again. And he definitely didn’t want to succeed in it.

He held his head in his hands, not looking at Pete, trying to block out the feeling of death that was seeping into his bones.

No matter how much he murdered he would always hate death, the smell, the look. Killing was good, death was imminent and terrifying. There was a difference between the two. He wanted to be immortal.

“I don’t want him,” he states through gritted teeth. He only wanted to gouge out his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see him, see the hate he had for Frank in that moment.

Why didn’t Gerard hate him? He should have. He should not want him to even be near him. He never understood Gerard.

Pete didn’t miss a beat. He understood both men. His friend could see right through him. He knew him, who he was. He knew that he loved him and would do anything to hold Gerard in his arms once again. “Bullshit. It’s ripping you apart,” he said, spitting the words with bitterness to his friend. He knew him. He knew who he was. He knew what he had to do to get him to understand again.

“The fact that you’re trying to get me to hurt him again is ripping me apart,” Frank said, biting his lip. Pete didn’t know what was going on about them. He didn’t know that he was dangerous. He didn’t understand the severity of the situation that was brought to him from all of this. He didn’t understand that he was a murderer and murderers killed everything in their path.

Frank did. Frank knew what he was, a killing machine. He was a murderer, and he would always be.

He didn’t want to love Gerard, he didn’t want to be held up on someone he couldn’t let himself have. But he was so lucky, even if Gerard wasn’t.

He was lucky to be loved by him. Lucky to love him. But Gerard was the most unlucky.

He thought back to when he first told Gerard of his desire to murder him. He knew that this was going to happen but he still ran away with him, he still stayed with him. He never wanted to leave, even when he killed his friend, Ray.

He was a bad person and Gerard knew that. But still he stayed.

Frank could not figure his lover out. Ex-lover? Future lover? He didn’t know what he was now but he just knew that he wanted him to be as far away from Frank as possible, as well as be the nearest he could be. His selfish side wanted the latter.

Pete sighed and looked away, biting a hangnail. He doesn’t meet Frank’s eyes. Frank can’t even meet his own. He can’t look in the mirror in the morning.

He wishes fervently to kiss Gerard. Maybe he’ll fall, maybe Pete will convince him.

“I’ll tell him to keep away,” he says as he turns back to Frank.

Frank held his head in his hands. He seemed to be doing that a lot now. “That’ll kill him. Don’t tell him anything. Let me figure this shit out,” he said. He sighed. He knew what Gerard would do, what he had already done. He knew that he was going to kill, that he wanted to kill. He didn’t want Gerard to be sad, so if this made him happy he would make him think that he was still going to come home.

God, he wanted to come home.

He was so proud of his baby boy he just wanted to hold him. He was making his head spin with all this flipping around. He wanted to be certain, selfish.

He needed to make sure that he was certain about all of this. He didn’t want to keep hurting Gerard. He had to be certain about this.

He couldn’t be that, though. He had to let him go. But he didn’t want to. God, he just wished that he could be sure that he wouldn’t hurt him anymore. He didn’t want to hurt him but that was all this was about.

He couldn’t just let him go either. It was much too complex for that.

Gerard had solidified his standing as Frank’s. All this blood was holding them together.

They were silent for a few moments. Frank spoke up. “Tell him I’m proud. And tell him to be safe,” he said. That was all he was going to give to him right now, all that he could give to him. He hoped he could figure it out in two fucking days or he was screwed.

Pete looked back to him and nodded, solemnly. He obliged for his friend, knowing what it meant to him. What Gerard meant to him. Even if he wasn’t with him and didn’t want to be.

Frank took a slow breath before he spoke again. “Thanks, man,” he said, slow, like an apology, like a funeral.

Pete was doing a lot for him and Gerard and he wanted to thank him because he wasn’t sure that he ever had. He knew that he could get in a lot of shit for this, for whatever they were really going to do next.

Pete nodded. He didn’t speak, Frank’s burden would shatter under the weight of any more words. He knew that he didn’t want to hurt Gerard, that he didn’t want to harm him. But Gerard loved him, and he wasn’t as innocent as Frank thought. He didn’t tell him that, though. He just remained silent and thought about it.

Frank underestimated Gerard. Even when he knew that he killed, he still thought his baby boy was glass. Gerard had changed, subtly. But it was there. Gerard was a killer and with a killing came the skin washed in the blood of a person. Blood was the best toughener.

He had new skin now. He wasn’t the person that Frank knew before he left, before they left. Frank leaving had made him different, deranged maybe, guilty, definitely.

Pete could see it in his eyes. He could see that he was changed. There was a new spark whenever he looked at Gerard. A sinister spark. Gerard was still Gerard. But Gerard was the new Gerard. And Frank still thought he was the same boy who had never killed before. And that was simply untrue.

He would have to talk to him about that, drill it into his head that Gerard could take anything he threw at him because Frank had even conditioned him to be like that.

Frank didn’t know, he hadn’t seen him. But he would. He would know that Gerard wasn’t who he thought he was. He was like Frank now, in the league of murderers.

But despite Frank’s long time standing as one of the most prolific murderers Gerard had something to prove which made him all the more dangerous.

Mikey walked into the apartment, shaky and cold and scared. He hadn’t got over it. He knew what Gerard was now. He still didn’t want to accept it. His hands shook as he opened the door. He felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to stick around to see if Gerard would jump out from the shadows and kill him. But the only safe place around here was his bedroom. It was the only place he could retreat to anymore.

He pulled at his tightening collar. Did Gerard know that he knew? Could he tell that Mikey knew? He wondered what he would do when he learned that he knew.

He didn’t know what he was going to do. He didn’t know if he wanted to do anything just yet. He would wait, let himself mull it over. Even though he was terrified. His heart pounded in his chest and he quickly shut the door. He didn’t want to make a sound so he let it snap shut on it’s own soft accord.

He looked around, terrified. He was so terrified. He wondered if Gerard was going to be here. If he was in his room across the hall from his. He wondered if he was going to be stuck here, too terror stricken to pass his door.

He wondered what he was doing here. He wondered what he was doing at all. He could just leave, stay out till it was late. He didn’t want to be here. God, why was he still here. He could walk around the city for a little while. He didn’t want to stay here, he didn’t want to be here right now.

He wondered, heart beating quickly, like running feet down concrete if Gerard was here. If he could hurt him like he didn’t want to be hurt.

He shivered and wanted to run . He didn’t know if he was able to stay here, if he was able to face his brother.

He didn’t want to see him. He wanted the old Gerard back.

He couldn’t believe he thought he was innocent all this time.

He was behind the killings. He had hurt all those people. He would hurt more. Mikey was finding himself unable to want to watch the news. He didn’t want to see his brother in the headlines. He didn’t want to know it was him and not be able to say anything about it.

Would he say anything about it? He wondered what would happen if he did?

He had betrayed his brother before and he didn’t want to do it again. He didn’t want to hurt him even if he had harmed him.

But he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if he had the heart to turn him in but he was terrified of him.

He didn’t want to know what he did and he didn’t want to say anything.

He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, warming up. He was thinking about all of this, about what he would do to Gerard.

He didn’t want to do anything. He just wanted it to be fine again.

But it would never be fine again. he didn’t know if it could ever be fine again.

He was terrified of him. He didn’t want to be terrified again. He just wanted to be happy. He wanted to have his only friend be his brother again. He didn’t have any friends now, he didn’t have anyone.

He shuddered. He knew that he was nothing like the person he used to know. But he still missed him, still loved him. He was his brother of course he did.

He had to get out of here. He had to think about all of this, he had to get out of here into a good place, safe place.

He would risk it. He couldn’t stay in the silent main area of the apartment. He had to go. He had to leave. He had to get out of there, he was too vulnerable here, too out there in the open he had to leave, wanted to leave. God he was terrified of being in this place he didn’t know why he didn’t put on his coat and get some coffee, go to the library. He didn’t know how he could have stayed here and never known.

He took a deep breath. He just had to calm down, just had to calm down. He had to clear his head, move to his bedroom, go to his better place.

Yes, leave. Get to his room, to safety. To the caring arms of his own space. Where he spent all of his crisis days anymore. When Gee left that was where he had retreated to.

He wasn’t kidnapped anymore. He wanted to be with Frank. He didn’t have a brother at that moment, he didn’t have a friend.

Ray was nothing, Mikey was nothing, his home was nothing. They were all nothing. Nothing to Gerard in comparison to Frank.

Frank was a murderer. Gee was a murderer. Pete was a murderer. They were all friends, all happy together.

They had taken away everything from Mikey, all the people he loved were taken from him by Pete, Frank and Gerard.

Ray was taken away. And Frank had taken away Gerard. Pete was never fucking his, never. He was just a decoy. Just something used to get information.

There was nothing anymore. They had sucked all the love out of Mikey.

He was nothing but fear now. He was trembling, scared and terrified. He was a baby deer, just trying to make it to his bedroom. He just wanted to be safe, to be happy.

But it was cold even in the apartment. There was nothing that he could do about it. Everything was just too hollow.

He shuffled, knees shaking with the thought of everything. He didn’t want Gerard to come out but he knew it was a possibility. He knew that he could die. That his brother might just kill him.

Would he? He wondered if he knew his brother well enough to answer that question.

He was terrified about it all. About what he could be and what he could do. He didn’t know the extent of him. He was terrified of what he could do.

Would he hurt him? Would he walk away again when it was time for him to?

Did Mikey want him to?

He shivered, convulsing as he quietly tiptoed to his own bedroom. The silence hung in the air, it was holding its breath. It knew why he was waiting on the oxygen to be the first to breathe. He was not going to risk making a sound. He couldn’t, he was already choking on nothing.

He glanced at Gerard’s room, right across from his own. He didn’t want him to open the door. Don’t open the door, don’t open the door. Please, Gee stay inside your bedroom if you were there at all.

He didn’t know what he was up to if he was not home.

Maybe he was with Pete plotting his revenge on Mikey. He must know that he knows, even if he hadn’t seen him since the day before, when he didn’t know.

He had to know that he knew. It was part of being a murderer right?

A gulp of air, a trembling hand out to the doorknob. it shook as it grabbed on. He didn’t want Gerard to hear him, if he was in the house or not, he couldn’t risk it. He took caution. He didn’t want to die. Frank killed Ray. Gerard might kill him. He must have had no mercy to let him do that.

He shivered again. He was sickened, his brother and his lover (he shuddered harder at the word) had killed people. He was sure that Gerard was behind all of this. All of the new murders. All of the slashing of people that was continued in love. If they could call it that.

He was betrayed, scared. He didn’t know if he was upset or frightened. He was having conflicted feelings.

It was his brother for godsakes of course he was having conflicted feelings.

He felt hot tears in his eyes. He didn’t want to think about it. About any of it or what it meant. What it would mean.

He just wanted his friend back, his brother back. How stupid was he to think that this would be okay. He didn’t know how good he was good at pretending before he tried to dupe himself into thinking Gerard was good.

They had pulled the curtain over his eyes and he had fucking tied it around for them. He was so stupid.

The tears started to fall freely, rolling and meeting down at his chin. They were silent, salty and warm. His skin was warmed because of them, heated up.

He wiped them away and looked around before he ran inside. He didn’t want to spend any time outside of his only safe haven. He needed to get in his room, the more he stayed out of it the more unsafe he was.

He could think there, he could breathe there. Gerard was going to get him if he stayed out in the hallway.

Oh god he was going to get him if he stayed out for another second,

His heart jumped into his throat. He had to get away. He had to go away.

He didn’t even want to think about what would happen when Gerard came home. He didn’t want to know. And he didn’t want to wonder.

He shivered again. It was cold in the house, drafty and sad.

He curled up under a blanket. He was tempted to never come up again. But he was sure that the stale air that would soon fill him would need to escape. Not everything wanted to be set in stone. Not everything wanted to fall away into the earth like Mikey did at that moment.

Nobody cared about him. Nobody.

He thought Gerard did but he didn’t. He didn’t care. Pete hadn’t cared when he was with him. Everyone was just pretending to care about him.

God, he was pitiful. He was so stupid. Everyone must think he was so stupid.

He didn’t want to come out of there, was terrified of looking out the blanket. The warm blue tinted world that he had made for himself was enough for him for now. He had everything he needed. Everything he needed without risking going out. He didn’t want anything else. Anyone else.

The grumbling sound of his stomach almost startled him if he didn’t already know what it wanted. He hadn’t eaten anything all day. Not like he could. He was afraid if he did he would throw it back up. And he couldn’t risk going out there.

His stomach hurt, he was worried sick. He was going to throw up if he even thought about anything that had to do with Gerard.

God, even the thought of his brother’s name made him hurt right now. He tried to push it out of his mind.

He was sure that at some point in time he fell asleep, covered in the darkness and lulled by betrayal. He would have to figure all of this out, he would have to figure out what exactly he would do.

He didn’t want to fuck with this. He just wanted to lull himself to sleep. Maybe it was a dream and when he went to sleep he would end up being okay. Maybe it was all just a bad dream.

He shivered and pulled himself closer together. All just a bad dream.

It was hot when he woke up. When he crawled out of his little home that he had built for himself, sweat caked to his forehead and hair out of place.

His brain was a little bit fried, eyes fuzzy and waiting to come back to life, half dead and covered in white. He scrubbed them and pulled the blanket away from his face.

The red left his eyes and turned into the pale white of his life. He looked around, still groggy from the nap.

He looked around and scratched at his head. His room was the same as he had left it, there was nothing but the cold. He was hot but his face, every piece of his body that was hitting the air was hitting the cold.

There was also a person sitting on the end of the bed who he hadn’t seen in a long time, back covered in a jacket with his hands in his pockets.

He didn’t register who it was, he wasn’t sure yet, so groggy, still so groggy. He blinked a little bit, covered in the same fuzziness. He had to get rid of that if he wanted to see who this person was. He was too slow when he woke up.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. He wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming or in a weird sleepless hallucination. He squinted at this figure, trying to find if it was him.

The figure, Pete, was still there when he opened his eyes again. Even after taking a large yawn and blinking. He knew who it was now.

Now he was afraid, watching his surroundings, kicking his feet closer to himself. He wondered if this was his closing scene. He wondered if this was Gerard’s plan to take him out.

He wondered fleetingly if it was snowing outside.

Pete was just sitting, looking at the wall and waiting for something that Mikey was not sure of. His eyes were straight ahead, even when Mikey moved around, even when he was sure that he felt it.

His back was still turned to him, covered in taut cloth. He looked tired. Mikey could tell that even from his slouch.

He really did wonder what this was. Pete was not talking, not doing anything. Maybe he was going crazy.

He was afraid to speak, his throat closing up. He was afraid to breath again and his blood boiled in his soul.

His safe haven didn’t feel so safe anymore.

The blanket hitched around his ankles. He could feel his heartbeat picking up again. He didn’t want to be hurt. Even if he was sad, even if Pete made him sad. If Gerard made him sad. Everyone was making him sad. He was used to it, he supposed.

But he didn’t want to die, not yet. He didn’t want to hurt.

Pete turned around to look at him when he moved again. His smile was soft and inappropriate for the situation. He moved his fingers away from himself and brushed back his hair with them, awkwardly staring at Mikey when he did not reciprocate the smile. He was panic stricken, eyes wide and watching the nothingness in the wall next to Pete. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this.

Everything was coming back to him and he didn’t want it. He couldn’t do this. The past was coming back to hit him in the fucking face. He couldn’t deal with this.

Who knew sleeping made shit worse?

He shuffled around till he was as far away from Pete as possible. He didn’t want to be anywhere near him. He couldn’t decide if he was worse than Gerard or better.

Fear bubbled in his stomach again. He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready for death. But he knew that was what he was here for. He knew that Pete was going to kill him. That was a fact.

But how, when, he didn’t know.

He was going to die because he knew about Gerard. Because he knew. He knew! He was going to die for that. His brother had ways of finding out about him.

He started sweating again, heart beating faster. Going to sleep wouldn’t fix death, going to sleep wouldn’t fix anything when that was all death was. He didn’t want to die. God, he didn’t want to die.

Pete wasn’t looking at him like he was going to murder him. But he was weird like that. He hadn’t looked at him like he was betraying him before. Even when he had sex with him, got drunk with him. He had looked at him like he loved him.

But he was good at acting because he had Mikey believing in him. But we’ve seen that he was easily gullible.

He didn’t look fondly on anything that had to do with the funeral and when he thought about that his need to throw the fuck up intensified. He reminded himself that these were bad people.

He smiled, softer this time. Like it would make up for something. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, reaching out a hand, soft and gentle and coming to ensnare him.

Mikey tucked his feet under his legs and didn’t answer. He didn’t trust him, it was as simple as that. He didn’t care anymore. Or at least he tried not to. He shivered, it was cold in the room, so terribly cold.

With a faltering smile Pete clapped his hands together, officiating an awkward moment. Mikey jumped, making it more fractured. He couldn’t help it. He was on edge. He pushed his back into the corner as much as possible.

He looked to the clock and saw that it was only a few more hours into the evening than he had initially thought. He wasn’t having the best of times with this. He felt sick to his stomach. Sick in the head. Everything was too much. He wanted to cry again.

He turned back to see Pete staring at his hands. He almost forgot how to talk, but he forced himself to say something to him. “Get out.” It was shaky and groggy and nothing like he had ever heard come out of his body. It was so full of broken venom he was sure that it would backfire at him. It was pitiful, weak. He was still so tired.

Pete smiled wider, like Mikey wasn’t something that could take him, challenge him. He spoke after a second, turning away. “You need me, right now,” he said. He was pushing this back in his face.

His blood bubbled over in his veins. He gritted his teeth. “You don’t know anything about me. What the fuck are you doing here? Come to kill me?” His voice spit venom. He didn’t want to see Pete. He didn’t want the reminder. He didn’t need this right now. He couldn’t handle this.

They were going to murder him. Pete just wanted to fuck with him before he did.

He felt his head swimming. He was sure that he was going to die if he had to handle anything like this for more than a few more seconds. How stupid he was when he thought that he was going to leave the past behind. Pete would always be there to fuck up his life. Gerard would always be there to fuck up his life now. At least Pete had gotten out of his hair for a while. He couldn’t let Gerard go. So he would always mess with his head.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look at him anymore. It was ripping him apart. If he was going to die, he was going to die with Pete thinking he was accepting his sentence.

“Hey, Mikey,” Pete said, awkward laugh as he pulled his body nearer. He didn’t want to fuck him up. He just wanted to help him, hold him, love him again. “Don’t get upset, please, Mikey,” he said, putting a hand on his shoulder, gently. His heart beat in his chest to the time of Mikey’s breaths, shallow and covered in terror. He was scared of Pete.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he whispered, shrugging him off. But not scared enough to be complacent. He was always the stubborn one.

Hand slipping, Pete took himself farther away. He didn’t touch Mikey. Just tried to talk again. “Long time no see,” he offered to his former lover, backing up.

Mikey wasn’t having it. “What do you want, Pete?” he allowed, voice cracking under all the pressure of talking to him. He didn’t want to die but he didn’t want to prolong his suffering. He didn’t want to do this any longer but he was curious to had he had to say for himself as well. Would he try to lie? Would he try to pretend to love him again?

Besides, he was used to this murderer than his brother as a murderer. He would take Pete over Gerard any day. He had to sit in a car with him, he had sex with him, he knew what he was.

“It sounds stupid now. But I wanted to catch up. I wanted to talk to you,” he says, moving to look at Mikey who was lying on his back, face covered in blankets now, having moved to lay down and look towards the ceiling, obstructed by the red. He didn’t want to look at Pete, he was just trying to prepare himself for death.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” he said, taking the blanket off and looking towards Pete with sorrowful eyes. He was slowly accepting it. He wasn’t scared of Pete. No, no, he would die by his hand. He was sure it would have happened anyway.

“I love you,” he said, broken. He was weak, words even weaker, like they didn’t make any sense in his mouth. He sounded foreign saying them. They didn’t fit in his mouth.

And Mikey knew that they didn’t. That he was a liar. If he was any braver, if he was anyone else besides the cowering fool that was himself he would punch him. But he just scowled at Pete. “What did we agree on?” he asked, citing the situation they had before he got Gerard back. He didn’t want to open up the wound again, he didn’t want to face the past again. he ignored Pete’s words, he knew they were fake. He didn’t want to think about this again. He didn’t want him to talk to him anymore. He just wanted Pete to leave. This was all too much.

The past was catching up with him and he couldn’t stop it. It was like whiplash.

“I need you,” Pete replied to him, shrugging. He looked away from him. He felt light years away from Pete right now and he wasn’t sure that he liked that.

He didn’t know what that meant for him, meant for them.

But he continued trying to push him farther away. “You helped ruin my life,” he said, shaking his head and looking away. He shivered and held himself closer.

“I know you love me.” Pete avoided the conversation. He didn’t want to talk about that. He knew that it would lead to something bad.

“No. I just used you,” he replied, biting his lip. That wasn’t far from the truth. It started out like that, ended like that. He shouldn’t be caught up on this. But he was and it was all coming back to him, everything was coming back to him.

Pete laughed, cruel and bitter. “You loved me and you know it,” now the poison was in his voice, shoved down his throat like a dead bird.  

Mikey cowered under his voice. He couldn’t handle this. Couldn’t handle this. He hid inside himself, closed off from Pete, never wanting to come up for air again. Wouldn’t he just kill him already instead of trying to make him swallow his pride?

“Go away,” he pleaded with his former lover, quivering under his voice, shaking under the weight of everything. His fingers curled around his cheeks. He didn’t want to feel this way anymore. Ten hours of knowing about the brutal truth of someone he loved. When would his life stop crumpling around his feet?

He could deal with Pete. But he couldn’t escape Gerard. He loved him, wanted him. But he wanted the Gerard that he used to know. He wasn’t aware that he had died with his first victim.

He just wanted everything to be okay.

Tears streamed down his face. He was never getting back his brother. He had lost the fight already and he didn’t even know it. Frank (and by extension Pete) had taken everything from him. He had nothing now. He was nothing but the people he loved and he wasn’t a monster. Pete, Gerard. They were monsters.

They weren’t people anymore. They were bad. They were all so bad.

“Baby?” Pete asked, going soft again, looking at Mikey, cowering in the middle of his bed like a baby. Oh, brave new world.

Mikey gritted his teeth and curled in more. He didn’t want Pete to see him, he didn’t want Pete to touch him. But he wanted to be held, he wanted to be loved. He was there with him and he was the only person he wanted contact from. But he was bad, toxic, radioactive. He didn’t want him. He didn’t want him. He wanted to be loved by someone. Not this. He wasn’t part of what Pete was. He didn’t want to be.

He just wanted to be safe, happy. He wanted to be okay. He wanted everything to be okay.

“I know him. What he is,” Mikey sobbed through heavy cries and broken breaths. Did Pete want a confession from him? Did Pete want to hear him say it?

He didn’t want to say it. It was making him sick. He didn’t want to be sick anymore. He didn’t want to feel sick anymore. There was only a few hours of this but he had been put through hell for months now. By people he called friends, a lover, a brother. There was nothing left for him and he was terrified. Couldn’t he just kill him already?

“What? Who?” Pete asked, landing a delicate touch on his form.

Mikey’s form convulsed further. He didn’t want his touch, he rejected it, craved it. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He didn’t know what he was. He just knew he was terrified of what was going to happen.

“Gee. Gee,” he cried, balling his fists up into his eyes. Maybe if he pressed hard enough he would awake in a world where he only saw the good in people. Where this had never happened.

“What’s wrong with Gee, babe?” Pete asked, crawling closer yet again. Mikey was remembering this time, all the other times that he had done this to him before.

He didn’t want him near. He didn’t want to touch him. It hurt him, terrified him. He didn’t want his hands anywhere near his body unless it was his throat.

Why was he not killing him?

“I know what he is,” Mikey prolonged it. He knew that Pete knew. But he didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to say anything about this. He looked to Pete who looked confused. He knew that either he really didn’t get it or that he was playing coy. Pete knew who Gerard was, he knew what he had done.

He wasn’t innocent. And Mikey was the last one to realize that. He was so stupid. God, he was so stupid.

Pete stayed silent, not speaking before Mikey beat him to it. “He’s a murderer, Pete.” His voice was cold, realization of a child that death wasn’t a myth made for fish and old people. it was real now, and Gerard dealt it.

His voice stayed in the air and saturated it. Pete blanched and let go of him. But Mikey knew that this was the next part of the world that they lived in, killers and monsters and an innocent. They were in this together now, Mikey was no outsider. Not anymore, he knew and he couldn’t forget it.

It was imprinted on his mind.

He was just the brother now. The unfortunate brother that happened to come to his senses too late. It wasn’t his fault. They were just bad people.

He wiped his eyes and looked at Pete, ready for anything. The darkest part had ended. And he wasn’t even really scared anymore. Just awakened. He was ready for death and he imagined any second now Pete was going to kill him. His hands were going to move and Mikey’s newfound knowledge would leave him as well as everything else.

Pete’s eyes trailed around his face and his fingers moved to mimic. He was going to kill him now. He had to kill him now.

Just like he had killed Ray. All those people were dead and they had done it.

He didn’t want to be apart of it. He didn’t want to think about it.

He just wanted to imagine what it would be like in heaven and if he would get in at all.

Pete was going to kill him but he just stared into Mikey’s eyes.

“It’s okay, Pete. I’m not scared. You have to do it,” he told his former lover. But he was not moving away from his face, his fingers were just flicking away tears, hot terrified tears.

He didn’t want to die but he had to. He wondered how long it would take them to get caught now that he was dying without ever telling anyone.

“Shh, baby. Gee’s not-he’s not a killer,” he said.

Mikey smiled widely, mocking almost. “I’m not a baby, Pete. I know.” His voice was a whisper, falling away from the rest of his body, trembling and cold. His voice shivered again, moving Pete’s hands to his throat, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.

“I know and you have to kill me.”

 


	7. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's late and short. Late? Because I am a terrible human being and didn't start writing till Monday and never fucking slept. So I took Wednesday to sleep instead of write the final three thousand words. Short? Because after doing a little math I saw that I had went over the needed word count to my overall goal and decided to write a few hundred words less.

Pete smiled and went to stroke his skin. “Baby, I’m not going to kill you,” his voice was soft like velvet. His eyes were softer, staring into Mikey’s who soon grew to confusion. He was trying to be as gentle as possible, gentle fingers nearing Mikey’s skin like petals. He tried to act like he wasn’t scrambling to tell him another lie.

His words held some sweet macabreness to them that made Mikey’s blood run cold. He knew that he meant well and he knew that he was just trying to calm him down but it seemed to turn him into something of a villain, a spider waiting to spin him in his web.

His shoulders shook, delicate and dove like, flapping wings.

Pete was freaking out under his calm facade, eyes imploring Mikey to open up to him. He wanted to be close to him but he didn’t want to scare him off. He didn’t want him to run away. And he didn’t want to startle him.

He had way too much on his plate right now. Especially if Pete couldn’t convince him that Gerard was as innocent as he usually thought.

Mikey couldn’t know what Gerard did. Mikey couldn’t know. It would ruin him. Pete had already taken too much from his darling boy. He just wanted him to be safe. He just wanted him to be happy, ignorant.

But there was nothing standing in the way now besides a raw wound. There was nothing keeping Mikey from feeling all the pain that the knowledge brought. He wanted to keep him from that.

He was too innocent, too small. He was not ready for all of this, for his world to finally come crashing down around him.

He felt terrible for ruining his world. His carefully maintained facade, he had to help him keep a little bit of it up. The foundation was cracking, water was leaking into him. He was breaking. Everything was breaking for Mikey, his fawn bones snapping under the pressure.

He looked so small and confused and terrified. He was nothing but a crumpled little leaf. He was small, trembling, delicate and waiting. Waiting for what he was not sure.

He looked up with tears, hands out like he was not sure how they got to his face, why he was crying to himself.

“But I know about Gerard,” he stated, sitting up and holding Pete’s hands in his. He was still crying, stray tears falling, rolling like hills and whistling like grass, a durge of forgetful sadness. Like everything was arbitrary and once the book closed there would be nothingness yet again. He didn’t understand what was going on, what Pete’s motives were. He didn’t know who he really was, or if he really was.

“How do you know, baby? How do you know?” Pete asked him, growing closer to him, he just wanted to get closer to him. He just wanted to help him.

“I saw him. Last night. With you, Pete. You’re a bad thing! You’re one of the bad things! How could Gerard want to be around you?” he asked through tears, shaking and trembling, chest heaving.

Pete felt a sting in his chest. It hurt, but he definitely understood where Mikey was coming from.

His eyes still went sad and his mouth melancholy. “I’m a bad thing?” he asked.

Mikey wiped some tears away, eyes looking into Pete’s. “Of course you are!” he said, wiping his nose. He didn’t think anything of it of how it shot bullets into Pete.

“Do you still love me?” Pete had to ask.

Mikey didn’t answer, just went quiet about it all, looking off again, into the distance and still crying. He looked gorgeous. He looked broken. And Pete knew that he was.

He looked like he had seen something that no one ever had to see. He looked like he was dying inside.

Pete wanted to love him, wanted to care about him. He wanted him to let him. Mikey was so far away from him. He was so far away.

Mikey was thinking about all of this, the sadness eminating off the lost lover besides him. He knew that he was watching him. He knew that he was looking at him, to see what he would do, if he would do it.

Nothing would ever be the same. And even the worst parts of the worst parts were better than this. This was confusion. This was betrayal. He didn’t have anyone besides Pete. He was alone. He was so alone.

He felt it before, when Gerard got home. After the euphoria stopped he had the feeling that not everything was as right as he thought it would be. Everything was different and the only thing that was the same was Pete.

Then again, he never really knew about Pete. Whether he was just fucking with his head or trying to take care of him. He seemed to be doing both of those things.

He was the only reliable thing. Even Mikey was nothing. He wasn’t good for himself, all alone, cooped up by himself. He needed someone to steady him, to pluck him down and hold him in himself.

He needed someone to stick him back together, glue or maybe even clear tape, wrapping around his limbs, attaching him to his torso, a crude method of making everything okay.

Pte moved his fingers to tuck a piece of hair behind his head. “That doesn’t matter. That don’t matter, baby,” he said. He moved closer, testing his limits. He loved him, he just wanted to be closer, to be allowed to be closer. He wanted to help him put himself back together, he wanted to be closer.

He knew Mikey in the worst of times. He knew Mikey when he was broken and when he was dying. He knew who he was because he had seen him without any of the bullshit.

He loved him so much. He just wanted to be closer to him, feel closer to him. Everything felt fake now, distant after all the time he had spent nearer to him. He looked like he was miles away, on the coast of a country he was not sure on the name of.

They stayed quiet for a few moments, Mikey wracking his brain for something to object, something to say in defense of himself.

Mikey didn’t notice yet and if he did he didn’t say anything. “But he’s a murderer, Pete,” he started to cry again. He was starting to get used to it, to get used to saying it. Even if he didn’t want to. Maybe it was for the best that he was starting to accept it, it was easier, he was used to it.

“No, baby,” Pete said, swiping away the tears. He smiled at him, reassuring a child that he was okay. His fingers were soft on his skin, like icicles through your ribcage, clean through the sinew of your flesh.

But Mikey was tired of being treated like a child. He was a big boy, he was an adult. He could handle this. Maybe.

He was beginning to feel worse and worse in the most twisted of ways whenever he thought of what his brother did late at night, what he thought about in the morning and what he dreamt about.

He must like killing, he must like the rush that it must give him. There must be something there that makes it worthwhile for him. The blood pours freely down to the drain and he delights, that must be something? Right?

He liked to kill. Gerard liked to murder people and leave him.

That thought made his paranoia rise, seemingly aided by the way he thought about the blood, running down arms, bodies, flesh, making it’s way to the mouths of awaiting heathens.

“No! I know what he is. Stop lying to me, Pete,” he yells, looking back on him. His eyes were dark in his mind, etched into his head. His fingers trembled, trying to claw their way to credibility. He tried to steady his hands. But he was chattering apart. His entire body seemed to be unraveling and talking just made it worse, breathing just made it worse. He shook harder, just remembering the way blood looked when it was on pale skin, dead skin, blue and bloated and all but pretty.

God, he couldn’t do this. No, he couldn’t do this. He would die before he was able to. He would break apart before he was able to focus his mind on the imminent hobby that was death.

“Shh. Okay, okay, Mikey. You need to get some sleep, yeah?” he asked his darling, trying to get him to calm down, keep himself together, get his mind off of everything that was bothering him, prolong the inevitable. Just keep his mind off of the idea of death enough to get him to steady his breathing.

It wouldn’t work, fruitless attempts to dissuade him weren’t working and he knew it. He was just trying to get him to calm down if anything. just trying to get him to settle down for a few moments to clear his head. He was so afraid that he would just shatter under him. He didn’t want him to break, he wanted to keep him together.He looked so worn, so thin. Just as bad as when he met him. He had fallen to shit when he left. He had turned into a skeleton.

He had to help him, make him better. He looked so small. Too small. His heart ached for his tiny boy, missing him.

God, he looked so far away.

“Get away! Get away from me,” he said, heavy breaths keeping his words from holding any weight before being blown away by his voice. He was trying to stitch them together when he should be focusing on stitching himself together. But Pete couldn’t blame him, self preservation was a beautiful thing.

Mikey looked at him, terrified eyes not knowing who he really was. He shook, like he believed that Pete was the enemy. Everyone was Mikey’s enemy. He couldn’t blame him, yet again.

“Mikey, baby. Calm down,” Pete said, backing away and trying to make him stop. He was so afraid for him. He didn’t know what to do. Mikey didn’t have anyone, didn’t want anyone who would have him. He let the distance between them grow, taking his hands and pulling them away, showing them to his lover.

Everything was so fucked. It was all so messed up, everything was out on the table now. Gerard was a killer. Frank was a killer. Pete was a killer. But Mikey loved him, still loved him.

He hoped, at least. He wasn’t kicking him out, so maybe there was some sort of hope for them. He liked to believe there was always hope for them.

He credited that to Mikey having to endure him for a few days even after figuring out who he was. He had had to stay with him in that car, expanses of road and swatches of nighttime. He got used to it, allowed himself to stay in love with him. He reminded himself what it was like with Pete near after trying to detach himself from him, failing.

They were always going to fall back together again. The first time, the second time, the last time. This time, this time was the last time Pete would let Mikey hurt, let Mikey leave. He knew that he loved him and he just wanted to protect him.

Just like he had done before, the first time he had met his lover, soft and thinner than this.

He thought back fondly to that time, even though it was wrought with grief and Mikey’s terror. He liked to think that was what bound them for life.

Or at least for necessity.

Mikey needed him right now. Because he didn’t have anyone else. And he wouldn’t hold that over his head, he just wanted to be loved by him. He just wanted to love him, help make him better.

He would do anything for him just to be allowed to live comfortably in his presence. He just wanted to make him better even if he only got spit on in return. He wanted to be allowed to love him.

He just wanted to help make him better again, to help Mikey smile again. He was glad he had found him at the time that he did. If he was left to rot in his own fear for a few more hours God knows what he could have done.

He was sure that he was making it worse, though. But at least he could keep an eye on Mikey now. He was sure that he was turning into something worse. He didn’t want to harm him, he didn’t want to hurt him. He just wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt others.

There was a deranged look in his eyes that told Pete his worst fears might come true. That he would soon be realized as a full fledged maniac, trying his hand at making his life better.

Pete felt sad for Mikey, upset that someone so good had to go through all this pain. He was too good for this, undeserving of this. This was a total shitstorm.

It was ruining his lover, making him into something that he wasn’t supposed to be. He was supposed to smile, he was supposed to be soft.

Right then, he just looked like he wasn’t sure what anyone was doing there, him or Pete.

But he spoke anyone, eyes alight with dastardly flames, taking shape in the form of spit words.

“You’re all bad people. You’re all terrible people,” he said, speaking what he thought, fingers digging into his cheeks. He was soft, holding himself near. He looked so small, so alone. Like he was going to super nova in on himself.

His poor baby was going to implode. If he didn’t do something about it.

Scuttling down the bed, away from Pete again he went, sobbing for something he would never have again. He lamented the death of goodness because he would never see it again. Everything was changed now, everything was different. Gerard was a murderer, Pete was a murderer. Everyone he loved was a bad person. Everyone he had been close to had only artificially held him close.

He felt the bitter sting of remembering what Pete felt like, cellophane on his skin, oily and clinging to him. He had loved it, choked on it and hadn’t even know what it was. But he knew that he liked it, that he loved the attention and he loved Pete.

His eyes darted up again with that thought. He loved Pete, he still did. And maybe Pete loved him, maybe he was still doubting himself. Maybe he always would. But maybe he was truly in love with him and wanted to help him.

He looked into his eyes and he felt like he was on the other side of the world. Pete looked back, dumb and deftly. There was nothing in his eyes for Mikey to get. Nothing in his eyes for him to understand or relate to. They were nothing anymore. They were entirely nothing.

He didn’t want to be nothing. He wanted Pete to be everything. He wanted to know him and love him and feel him again. He wanted to be close to him but he was so afraid of getting burnt.

He was so alone. He was so fucking alone.

He felt everything slipping away from him. Like he was nothing but a person floating through space, trying to make everything better even though he couldn’t. He just wanted everything to be better again. He was always yearning for it to be better and although he did his work with making it as good as possible, there was everything pushing against him, making his life an antire shit hole.

He didn’t want to be alone anymore, he didn’t want to be sad anymore.

But it was too late, everything was fucked now. Everything was so messed up. It was terrible, really. Mikey was nothing but a shell of something that people used to love.

He used to be good, happy. But then that got fucked up. Everything got fucked up when his brother started killing people and he himself fell in love with a person just as bad.

He wanted to cry, everything sounded so much more simple when he thought about it in elementary terms. Everything was easier when it was just looking at all the facts, the sequence of events and the relationships rather than the morals.

God, he wished he was a robot. He wished that he didn’t have the need for morals and just did math.

He sighed, thinking in on himself about how everything was just entirely fucked up. He cried, still crying, having his own little moment as Pete watched o, letting him cry, wiping off his snot on his shirt. He looked like a little bit of a hurricane.

Pete felt terrible for him. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was ripping himself apart, caught in the crossfire of dirty deeds. He was much too innocent for this. His bird bones, filled with hollow love instead of marrow were shaking, clicking together like castanets, calling him to dance. Mikey was a symphony, gawky and ready to fly away.

He sobbed, knees shaking together. God, he was so thin. Since when did he get so thin? Pete thought this to himself, trying to handle all of what his lover was feeling for him. He was having a hard time keeping Mikey together as well as assess the damaged.

“Mikey, you need to breath. You need to breath,” he said, trying to be as calm as possible, hiding his face from showing any emotions. He had to keep it blank if he wanted to Mikey. Mikey needed to focus on something. Whether it was him or the bedspread or a something. He needed something that was steady again.

“So you can watch it leave my body when you kill me?” he asked, bitter teeth chattering, pressed together like the gates of death. He reminded himself that Pete was the enemy. His body shook again, crying at the fact that he was dead soon.

He knew that he was going to die soon and he stared it in the mouth, challenging it with what little strength he had left.

But he was the only one he felt remotely like home anymore.

He wanted to crawl into his arms, to use him as his defense mechanism again. It was just so easy to slip away. But he was terrified of what would happen with him if he did. He didn’t want to make the circle again. He just wanted to get out. He just wanted to be free, be happy. He just wanted to be pure again.

He just wanted everything to be pure again.

He was tempted, yet again, for the second time that minute, to crawl into Pete’s arms. To fold himself up would be so divine, letting himself be near to him, hear his heartbeat and fall asleep. Sleep would make everything good, for a little while. Sleep would turn everything into something easier to digest.

But he couldn’t curl up with Pete. Because he wasn’t sure if he forgave him or not. He wasn’t sure that he wanted him to be the person he went to.

He wanted Gerard to be that person. He wanted his best friend to be the person he turned to. But he hadn’t been his safety blanket since before that all began.

Now it was only Pete who cared about him in the whole wide world. There was only Pete that he really wanted anyway.

Nothing would ever be the same except for him. He was the only good thing anymore.

He wanted to kiss him, to hold him, forget about his problems. But Pete was part of his problem. His problem of making everything pure.

He was going to throw up, there was nothing that would make him pure, nothing that would make him good again. There was nothing good again. Ever again. His brother was a murderer.

He kept replaying that in his head, leaning back on his heels, under his ass. He was a murderer. He kept saying that to himself to see if he would ever get used to it. He wasn’t sure he ever would.

But he tried to think about it better, holding himself nearer.

Nothing would ever be good again, the one constant in his life, the greatest constant in his life was his brother. And now he was a liar just like Pete.

Pete wasn’t that bad, he killed, Mikey knew. But he didn’t murder. Not like Gerard and Frank did. Not like anything that they had done before. They liked to hurt people, to watch the light drain from their eyes.

He knew that Pete probably never watched. That Pete killed when he needed to. Gerard was a murderer with something to prove. And Frank was just a fucking sadist.

If he was a sicko like the other two, Mikey wasn't’ sure on. But he hoped to hell that he wasn’t. Even though he knew that this camel had a lot of straws on its back. And it wasn’t breaking anytime soon.

Everything else was broken, bent. Dilapidated and abused he watched as his life crumbled into organized chaos.

Everything was tainted, broken, bent and misshapen. Everything he touched feel apart or was already past the point of breakage. He was a bad omen, destined to be around people that were a constant threat.

He looked into Pete’s eyes, craving forgiveness, mercy. Anything that he could give him, anything that would ease the pain that went along with all of this.

Pete would not disappoint, looking at him with calm eyes, meeting his own and steadying his heart. He was always so good to him. Always so good at being his steady thing.

“Not gonna kill you. I’m not gonna hurt you, baby,” he said, soft and steady and calm and looking into Mikey’s eyes. He had to make him focus on him, had to calm him down. His movements were slow, everything was happening too quickly. He had to be the slow thing for Mikey to focus on.

“Pete, he killed people,” he said, soft realization, not thrashing anymore. He had laid down to die and accepted it. He wasn’t fighting anymore. He was okay with everything now. It was the last level of grief, he was past it all. He wasn’t drowning, merely sinking. He wasn’t drowning, only dying

His vision was cutting out, retinas dying. He would smell the stench of burning flesh for several minutes after everything else left him. He was dying. He was going to die.

He didn’t know why he confessed this to Pete when he knew it could mean his life. He knew that this could have gone a lot worse than it already had.

But he trusted Pete, more or less. And he had to get all of this out of him, he had to just spit it out. He had to just let himself go at the mercy of Pete.

Maybe he was not 100 percent pure, maybe not even fifty. But he was the closest thing Mikey had ever had to an angel.

Suddenly he felt bad for treating him badly.

Pete was always good to him. He was always the kind of person that Mikey liked, loved. He was blunt without being cruel and he knew how to withhold information. He had done it enough times.

Mikey steadied his eyes into Pete’s, staring into them like they were the only thing there anymore. He tried to focus on him.

His eyes held a little sort of understanding, melancholy in its nature, watching him watch him. They were companions anymore. They were comrades in the same terrible war.

Mikey loved Pete for this, felt like he was a newfound friend again, a shiny new toy that made him feel nice.

Pete did, too. He didn’t try to make Mikey think that things were okay because they weren’t. They were bad, they were very, very bad. He nodded, solemn and not meeting his eyes.

Mikey took a deep breath and spoke as clear as he could through the tears still running down his cheeks. “He’s killed people, Pete. Is he going to kill me?” The question was shaking, terrified, trembling at the core and to the bones. He didn’t want it to be real, didn’t want it to be true.

He wanted his brother and he wanted the soft on. He loved the soft one.

He was honestly worried about this. If his brother hid this from him, who knew what else he was hiding from him? He was his brother but that didn’t mean shit. He was a murderer, he didn’t understand loyalty. He was a monster any way, leave him like a dove, scared into flight, startled into leaving.

He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay with Pete. With people who loved him. He loved Gerard. He loved his brother with all of his heart.

But he was bad now and he had to let him go. He had to let him be by himself anymore.

GOd knows that he wanted that and only that from Mikey.

He was trying to get away from him.

It stung in his chest, betrayal, that newly familiar feeling. He just wanted to be loved by his brother.

He had put so many things over his eyes, flipped the curtain and stapled it down, like he was a fucking idiot. He had allowed them to lie to him, to not give him a chance to even see.

But maybe it was better. Because he would still feel the betrayal but at least now he was more accustomed to the pain that it brought.

Pete shook his head, “No, baby. He loves you,” he said, hand on his shoulder, steadying his lover. He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t fly away from him. He needed Mikey. He loved Mikey.

His lover still shook, small looking and crumpled in on himself but he wasn’t crying as much. He just looked a little dazed, a little confused. Like he was a baby bird, fallen from his nest and to the ground wondering how he got there and what he was.

Pete himself calmed down. Mikey would stay with him. He did not know how to fly yet. But he would soon and he would leave Pete.

He didn’t think about that, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He had to focus on Mikey, Mikey had to focus on himself. He didn’t want to be selfish in a time where the only other person Mikey had was being selfish.

He focused on making Mikey better, making Mikey care for himself better. He looked like the most of the storm was over.

Mikey was finally calming down, wiping away tears. But he still shook like a leaf in a tornado, blown around. Pete felt bad for him again, he was too timid for this. He was too small for all of this. He licked his lips before looking out the window, seeing the death and decay that winter brought with it. He wanted to be able to get out of there, to fly away and maybe take Pete with him. He just wanted to leave this place behind.

He thought about what he wanted to say, too far away to recall it in better time. “I’m terrified, Pete.” It was snowing, lightly covering the ground and the window sill. The pale white made him wish that he was a cloud, drifting away and gone again. It would be easier to have flown away into the horizon. He was nothing and when he evaporated he could be born again, clean and good and pure when the morning came in some other life. He was nothing. He could be a good nothing. He was already good at being too small to be noticed.

Pete called him back to reality with a kiss. “I’ll protect you,” he spoke against his lips.

Mikey felt electricity, shocking him back to life with his love, holding him closer, holding him down. He was just trying to keep him from running off. He couldn’t blame him.

He didn’t even know where his head was at this time. He wasn’t sure where his body was.

Mikey was far away, letting him kiss him in a dazed manner, taking his fingers and allowing them to hold Pete nearer, hooking themselves to his shoulders, spiders legs creating webs to ensnare Pete in his fragile embrace.

Pete himself looked a little bit surprised, at how close he could get. How far away he still was from him. So many miles away from him he might as well be in Portland.

This all felt familiar. The touching, the kissing, the crying. But the look in Mikey’s eyes were new to him, drilling a hole to his soul, tapping into his life line. He allowed his lover to suck him in, bringing him and stitching him closer to him before the look was gone again.

Mikey looked away again, at the pure snow, crunching to the parking lot and whispered, “Against what?” His voice was a ghost, a skeleton. He was hollow, terrified and caving in on himself.

Gerard might want to hurt him when he found out about this. And Mikey was sure that he would find out about this. He hoped that his compassion was still intact.

He was his brother after all. There was nothing but them at several occasions. They were best friends before this and Gerard still wanted to be close to him from what he had shown.

But Mikey knew that that didn’t mean shit. His brother was a murderer who had been pulling shit over on him. What he said to him three years ago about breakfast cereal was more relevant and reliable in this situation.

He couldn’t trust Gerard and he wouldn’t trust Gerard. Even though he knew that he would probably end up doing just that against his own better judgement.

He loved his brother but if anything with Pete taught him how he should be it was cautious around him. Of course he would be cautious. He lived with a killer, a murderer. He was a terrifying human being and he hung out with them.

He felt himself go rigid against Pete. Pete promised to protect him, but that was also nothing. He was nothing when it was convenient for them. His silence added to the fact that he was going to be left out to dry when he needed him.

Pete just held him close. Mikey wasn’t sure if he really was going to care about and protect him when he needed it. But Pete knew that he was there forever. He wanted to be with him forever. He didn’t answer because he didn’t know how.

The silence settled like a blanket, like the snow on the ground. Like rigor mortis.

Mikey looked at him, expecting an answer but knowing he would get none. He curled in closer to his forgotten lover, remembered again out of necessity.

It was still snowing when he let himself drift off into sleep, holding himself closer in. He wanted to see if he could remember the way he felt wrapped around in his lover.

It was familiar. Like walking or breathing, something that you always knew how to do even when you didn’t.

He let his head rest on his clavicle, feeling his heartbeat. He wondered what it was like to die and went to sleep.

Gerard was walking home, in a cheerier manner than his brother seemed to be in, tongue sticking out to catch the snow. His feet made scoops into the snow banks, slushy and grey. He wondered who he would kill next, he wondered if it mattered. He knew that he had gotten Frank’s attention, he knew that he knew that he was better now.

He smirked to himself, hands in his pockets from the biting cold. Frank knew that he was better now. Everyone else knew that he was terrifying now.

Everyone was terrified now, terrified of him. Even though they didn’t know it was he that made them afraid again, that it was he that made them keep their children inside after dark. He was going to be the best there ever was. And it was all because of Frankie. Frankie made him into this. Into this gorgeous killer. He was better now. He was good now. Frankie would love him soon. Love him now.

He was pure now, good now. He was on top of the world and he would only crush it under his feet.

He couldn’t wait to hold Frank’s hand again, to look into his eyes and kiss him again. He missed Frank, missed the times that they had.

He missed being loved. He missed him. He missed him. He missed him.

He was all he ever thought about anymore.

He was all that he ever wanted to think about anymore. The way his lips turned into his cheeks. The way his eyes were moonlight and grass all at the same time, the light tipping off on the trees.

He was so lucky to get to love Frank. Frank was everything he had ever wanted, even if he ruined everyone’s life. He was his lover. He was the person that Gerard adored.

And he was going to be reunited with him soon. Gerard had passed the little test he made for him. His lover wanted him to be a true murderer. Now he was, he was a killer and he was good at it and he really loved it. He loved killing.

He smiled wider to himself, sure that he looked like a madman walking down the street with the dopiest smile on his face. He was just so happy. Everything was going better for him now. Everything was better for him now that he knew he was going to get Frankie back.

And Frankie had wanted him to be happy. So he was doing that. For him. He was happier now. He was going to be happy now. But only if Frank wanted him back.

He didn’t realize that the few weeks before when he gave him away to the world. He didn’t realize that he was the only thing that made Gerard truly happy. He was the medium for which he smiled, the topic on which he smiled. Killing made him happy but in a different way and still because of Frank. He was the one who showed him killing, who turned him into a killer. If he had killed someone without Frank he was sure that he would have suffered.

Nothing good came about unless it was given to him by Frank. He loved Frank so much and just wanted to be with him.

He knew now that Frankie didn’t truly hate him, he had just been too daft to see the big picture like Frank had. Frank wanted to make Gerard more independent. That was all he wanted from his darling boy. He still loved him.

He hoped.

His smile was hidden, thinking about Frank and about killing and about how he and Pete would get him out of prison. Everything was going right. Everything was falling into place for him.

He had even got that job that he applied for. Not like it mattered, if all went as well as he hoped it did, he would be with Frankie, fucking off to some foreign place in a week or two. But it was his brother that he was really worried about.

That made his smile falter. But then he thought of Frank again and the feeling passed. He had nothing to worry about. Everything would be okay because Frank would be with him.

The snow crunched under his feet, he smiled at himself through windows, watching his reflection. His cheeks were rosy. There was nothing to worry about, even if it was right around the corner. There was nothing to care about. He was too good for that, he would care in the middle of the night when he couldn’t run away from it.

He was a murderer. He was a murderer and he was going to get everything he wanted because of it. He was a good person, he couldn’t help it if he killed. It was who he was. A murderer.

He was king of the world, he was a killer. He was dangerous. And nobody would have guessed it. Hell, he was sure that even Pete was surprised. Everyone underestimated him. But he would show them.

Everyone thought him too innocent to be a murderer. They didn’t know him. Nobody knew him.

A laugh to himself as he walked, fellow pedestrians wondering why he was so fucking happy, sideways glances at his form. Everything was going his way, there was reason to be happy. He wondered if they realized who he was, what he was. What he could be or what he could do to them. He wondered if they could see the blood laced into the palms of his hands, running through his veins even though it was not his.

He was a murderer alright. And he was damned good at it.

It was the one thing that he was really good at. Fleetingly, he had loved art. He had loved the way it made him feel and the way he was good at it.

Murder was a new form of art, something that he dared to care about in ways that surpassed anything visual.

His victims were sculptures, blood running down in key spots like a social riot. Their eyes glazed over like glitter glue. Natalie, Mixed Media, 105 lbs. 5’1” Gerard Way.

He could see bodies in galleries, hanging on walls, limp and lifeless. A new sort of mortuary, placards stating details as obituaries, canvases and picture frames as gravestones.

Gerard was a new kind of artist. This was a new kind of art. And art was pure, art was always pure. What could be wrong with murder if it was a hollow cry of a real artist?

He would show them all. He would get his Frankie back. He would love him again. Frank would love him again. And everyone would see his art. Not in books or essays but on the news. Art made people feel. And he would make people feel terror.

And to think that Frank did not want him because he was too small. Because he was too nice, taking hair from that girl and crying when that doctor died. He did not remember their names, he didn’t have to. They were only ever works of his own art in some way.

Frank didn’t want him now. Because he was too small for him. Because he was too fragile. But he was going to prove himself, one body at a time, one person at a time.

He was going to kill till it didn’t seem to matter anymore. He was going to murder till someone noticed that he wasn’t as small as they all thought he was.

He was going to be good enough for him. He was going to make him love him again. He smiled to himself, feet jittery as blood and determination coursed through him.

The streets diced themselves up as he walked down the sidewalk, admiring the snow and the cold, shoved like hungry children into banks on the side, making way for the people. But there were little acts of rebellion in the snowbanks, creating tufts on the sidewalks, ice forming near the middle for unassuming people to slip on when they thought they were safe. Everything was killing everything. Everything was dying. And it was so beautiful. It was symbolic, really. There was nothing standing in between Gerard and total annihilation of everything.

He was the snow.

He felt the bruises on his neck, all but faint pulses now, memories. He choked up when he thought about them, gone forever.

But the scar was always there. The scar was Frankie’s promise. He looked down at it, fixing his horror with a single glance at the pinkening scar. That would never go away, it was too deep.

Frankie promised him forever, their blood had mixed. A little piece of Frank in Gerard. Vice versa. They had each other, they would always have each other.

A heartbeat every second, fast and wanton, pumping his reminder through Gerard. He thought back to that. That first forever, that first look into the bright, bright future.

He smiled to himself and walked to his house, a spring in his step. Frankie was his and no one could stop that. Because no one else knew.

That really blew his mind, the fact that everyone thought he was so innocent. The fact that they thought that the poor Way boy had been kidnapped and had been forced to kill. They didn’t know. No one knew.

He stepped up to his building, grayscale bricks and death waiting inside. He remembered when this really did feel like a new home. When this felt like something inviting. Now it was nothing but a skeleton. Something that he remembered from a memory someone else recalled to him.

The building was pale looking, everything was when it was met with snow. He stared up at it, through the windows at his apartment. He could see his curtains, Mikey’s.

He could see Frank’s old apartment, curtains hung wide, like they were caught in a moment where everything was different,the living room window wide and welcoming, like the curtains didn’t know Frank was a killer. Mikey’s next to his. A neat little row of terror, knocking like dominoes. They were both dark, like no one really lived there. Like there was nothing there to be looked at.

The entirety of that row was a quiet nothingness, like they did not exist. Another picture, gone and taken away from them.

The snow fell on top of his head, landing on his hair and sticking to his eyelashes. He wondered if his brother was home at all. His bedroom looked a little dark, curtains drawn.

He hoped that he wasn’t being too hard on himself. Everything was going so well, he just didn’t want that to get fucked up. He hoped that he wasn’t withdrawing from him again, he wanted his brother back. Even if it was for only a little while.

The lobby was welcoming, taking him into its warm arms. He accepted it with eagerness.

Winter was beautiful but the cold was a bitch.

He got his mail, sticking the key in the slot to open up to a few spam pieces of junk. He turned around to be greeted by the landlady.

He hadn’t seen Mikey that day, he was sure that he was just busy. A few exams must be coming up for him now that it was reaching the next season. He felt bad for his brother, too swamped to even come out of his room. He must be exhausted.

He used his key, getting into his house and hurrying to warm himself up. It wasn’t too late, early evening at the least, just barely getting dark outside.

He was sure that Mikey was asleep. Actually, he was kind of surprised that he wasn’t out in the living room, another wave of feeling bad for his brother went through him.

He didn’t want him to have to deal with all of this and exams. He felt so bad for his brother.

“Mikey!” he called into the house, sure that he was in his bedroom. He would come out when he called him.

But to his surprise, Pete emerged from the hallway. “Hey, man,” he said with an energetic smile.

Gerard smiled back, quirking his lips up at his friend. “You talking to him?” he asked, nodding towards his brother’s door. Mikey sat in the space, unable to be seen by Gerard from the angle that it was open.

“Yeah, he’s...he’s getting there,” he smiles to his friend, hiding back into Mikey’s room, shutting the door abruptly.

Gerard snorted and let him go back to his brother, having a good idea of what they were doing. Little did he know that they weren’t fucking, they were just trying to keep Mikey together for another day with words like safety pins, piercing through skin, painful but keeping him together.

He didn’t know what they were really doing in there and that it had to do with him, destroying everything.

He waltzed into his bedroom, humming and happy for his brother.

Frank sat in his cell, fingers dragging on the picture of his darling boy. Gerard’s face was worn looking, soft and subtley broken.

He didn’t want to fuck up anymore. He wanted to love Gerard.

He wanted to hold him close again. How great it would be to feel his stringy hair once again. He loved him. God, he loved him.

But there were two sides to it. He wanted him, god did he want him.

But Pete had told him what he did, what he would do. God, Gerard would kill the whole world to get his attention. This was never supposed to end out like this. Gerard was always the innocent one, the moral compass.

But now he was wild, rampaging through the streets.

He was going to get caught, someone was going to catch up to him one day and then he would see.

But he knew the type of killer that Gerard was. He had something to prove, everything to give away.

He was a murderer now, Frank had turned him into a murderer and he wasn’t sure who was paying the conseuqences.

He could get out of there, take care of Gerard, continue his mentoring. He was terrified of him getting locked up. He was terrified of him going to jail.

That would be terrible.

He shivered and looked at the picture again. Gerard was a killer, right in this picture. He was a murderer. He had killed before, for Frank, with Frank.

He shivered, he was getting more frightened about Gerard. For Gerard.

He was going to do something stupid, it was just a matter of time and Frank was terrified of seeing that time.

He wanted to keep him safe. And in two ways that entailed both staying away and coming for him.

Pete was right, Gerard could handle his own. Frank wouldn’t kill him anymore. He wasn’t pure anymore. He was a killer, too. A real killer now.

His shoudlers shook again.

He had turned him into a monster, he wasn’t going to pull a Frankenstein. He had to take care of him, love him. Or he would just end up jumping into the sea.

He didn’t want Gerard to become a martyr. He just wanted him to be happy.

Killing made Gerard happy. Frank made Gerard happy. So maybe Frank just had to roll with that, just had to hold his head high and get out of there.

He looked down at the picture again, knowing that he would see him soon.

Gerard’s eyes looked back with a bit of a sinister glint to them, holding him captive.

He wanted to kiss him so badly. He wanted to hold him so badly.

He sighed and fell on his side, curling up under his blanket, thin and ratty.

The space betwen him and the wall was just enough for another person and that person would soon be Gerard, there to hold him and love him again.

He was excited to see him, excited to tell Pete about his decision.

This was the start of the rest of their lives. He wouldn’t fuck this up.

He wondered, briefly, if they would go back to Portland. Or if they would just go anywhere. Out of the country maybe.

He lie and planned his new life, the life he would have with Gerard.

He was going to get out of here and they were going to go away, anywhere Gerard wanted to be. They would be rich, if they wanted to. They would be happy. God, would they be happy.

He smiled wide, looking at the picture, the knife in Gerard’s hand.

Of course they would be happy, as long as there was always a person to kill. And there were always people that needed to die.

Gerard was like him now. He wasn’t small. He wasn’t broken. But he was still his baby. But he wasn’t an amateur anymore. He was a killer, murderer. He was talented, too.

Frank knew that what he was doing was skilled, thought out, planned out. That was honestly more than what he could say for himself.

He was always impulsive, going out like clockwork but never stopping to make any plans in between the times. He just killed when the itch started.

Gerard found out what they did, where they were. AT least the first man.

He wondered how it was under all of their noses. Everyone was scrambling to find who was the killer, when he and everyone else with eyes knew it was Gerard.

He was fearful for his lover, terrified of the prospect of him getting thrown into jail. Surely they would not be together. No one would be dumb enough to make that mistake.

if he got sent to jail, then Frank would have left him for naught. He would have made everything worse.

He prays to God that everyone keeps their eyes shut long enough for them to escape.

It was so obvious, honestly. Gerard was the killer, he had to be.

But everyone thought he was too innocent. He was a good actor. He was good at pretending.

No one knew him and he was going to keep it that way.

He felt the picture again, finger over his nose and staring at his irises. He felt a swell in his heart, pride for his darling, his lover. He was so talented, so good at what he did, what Frank taught him to do.

He was so good at everything he wanted to.

Frank would kiss him soon, see him soon. He would be with him, be near him.

He couldn’t wait to hold him in his arms again.

He was stupid to think he could stay away. He was stupid to think that he needed to.

But maybe it was for the best. Gerard was better now because of what Frank put him through and only came out stronger. Nothing bad happened to him. And nothing bad would happen if he just got him out of here.

He knew that that wasn’t a problem, this was a lax facility. He was just here till his trial.

Whenever that was.

His heart jumped into his throat again. He was going to see Gerard soon and it would be so easy to get him back.

He needed him back.

But there was still the tugging at his heart, seeing the faint bruises left on his skin from his nighttime escapade. He would just have to take better care with his baby boy.

He was still small, still dainty. Still his, waiting and wishing for him. It was Frank’s job to protect him, to teach him. He was indebted to him, in love with him.

He had to keep him safe, no matter how dangerous he proved to be.

**  
  
  
**


	8. The End of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also short. What of it, bitches  
> I'm so tired

Gerard didn’t hear his brother’s ragged breath as he passed his room that morning. He didn’t hear Pete’s words in his ears, holding him close as he slept, a cage, a veil.

He didn’t heart how fast his heart was beating, even in his sleep, a pitter patter of fingernails on a chalkboard.

He was nothing, in the back of Gerard’s mind as of then, the crashing of everything inside his room stopping at the door, not even leaking into the hallway.

Gerard didn’t hear that his brother’s world was falling apart.

But that was not his fault, that he was clueless, that he was selfish. He was too hung up on Frank.

He thought of his lover, covered in an orange jumpsuit. All he knew about him was the distance between them. He needed to get him back, feel him again.

He was beginning to forget how his face looked, what his voice sounded like. He was becoming different, somehow. Something alien.

He wanted him back, in his arms. He wanted to remember what it felt like to be truly happy. He wanted to be into his arms again.

And as he went into the living room that morning, ready to go to that new job after having a bowl of cereal he was greeted with people, blue uniforms and trench coats, his worst nightmare and the worst case scenario.

There were three people, Armani being one of them. The other two he did not know, had never seen before. He was intimidated by them, mostly due to the fact that he did not know them, that he was not sure who they were.

There was a woman, standing in front of her, talking with a smile on her face, bright and prickly. Her pigtails alluded to a younger age, a time when she was smaller, more innocent. She didn’t look like a cop, none of them really did.

So he wondered why they were standing in his house. And his heart beat faster because he knew why they were.

They were here to take him in. They knew and the golden age of The New Jay was over. There was nothing for him now.

He would be like Frank. And they would always be apart.

He had to calm down, he had to be calm. He had to let himself take the full scope of the situation. He hadn’t even scoped the entire room yet. There was still the mystery figure to the left of Armani.

The last man was tall, an attractive young fellow with curly hair and a disinterested look. He looked like the exact opposite of his friend, who was currently looking around in wonder, like his apartment was a wonderland. His trench coat swayed with his stealthy movements. A hand in a pocket here, a swish of the coat there. A step further into his house and a rustling in the bottom of his coat. He looked around and the collar crumpled under the weight of him, the edge bending.

He frightened Gerard. He looked like he was something new, something wild. He looked like he was someone who could easily see through everyone. He didn’t want to be seen through by him.

He would surely be figured out if he even took another glance at this one.

“Armani?” Gerard asks, taking a step back into the hallway, scared and off put by these people he did not know. He only knew her, and took solace in her.

The woman in front of her, pushed past, bouncing forward with a new type of smile on her face, the kind you use to greet puppies and small children and old friends. “Hi,” she breathed out, voice just in limbo of darkness.

Armani didn’t answer, just flicked her own eyes to this new woman.

Gerard’s eyes flit around even more at the remaining two, the newly appointed Jumping Woman brushed off by him. She was not the answer he was looking for.

The man in the trench coat turns around, looking at Gerard with dark eyes. “Joe Trohman, Detective. My partner here,” he gestures to the Jumping Woman, covered in smiles for the entire room, “Lyn-z is the criminal profiler for our team. Forgive her, she’s excited to finally meet you,” he said. His voice was detached. He must be apologizing for her often.

Gerard was still worried about him. He didn’t like him, he looked away, unable to meet his eyes. He felt himself growing more confused the more this all transpired. He didn’t know what was going on, why they were there. He had no idea what was going on and he wasn’t sure that he liked it.

“Excited to meet me?” Gerard’s words were faint, confused and looking from him to this woman, who smiled wide and sheepishly at him again. He would start with the most obvious of the needed information.

She answered dutifully through white teeth and a lipstick smile. “It would be very interesting to get your recount of the story. I’m amazed that no one has tried to psychologically analyze you, yet. You’re so fascinating.” Her smile suddenly feels sickening. Like it was processed on what she thought was his suffering.

He didn’t, actually. But he was still upset with the fact that there were people who thought that he was hurting and still enjoyed learning about him.

It was weird, knowing the backlash of society on his existence. He wasn’t in love with the concept. It was a little foreign to him.

Gerard wobbles back away from them, taken aback by her abruptness. He cannot believe this is happening. Or at least he has to make sure they all think that.

He was walking a fine line between genuine and pretend and he wasn’t sure where they shifted.

“What’s going on, Armani?” Gerard asks, finally looking at his friend who was still turned away from the scene. She hadn’t answered him and was looking around his apartment in wonder, away from the other two who were dutifully looking towards her with him.

Her dreads whipped around with her head, looking to Gerard as they clanged together. She answered him in her familiar voice. “Down at the station, we’d figure that we’d give you time to recuperate, but we really need you to give a statement about what happened so we can put him away for as long as possible,” she explained. Her eyes were sorrowful, upset and sorry that she had to do this to Gerard.

His head cleared a little bit, but his eyes became more foggy. They needed a statement from him. Frank was really going to jail.

She walked forward and suddenly they all felt like they were crowding around Gerard.

He wanted to drop to his knees, to hold himself closer. He didn’t want them to do this. He didn’t want to have to do this. He wanted to push them all five feet away from him. They were too close now, ganging up on him and suffocating him.

Frank was going to go to jail, Oh God, he was going to go to jail. He was already in there and Gerard would never be able to get him out. He would never be able to be reunited with Frank again.

He would be alone forever. He would be a murderer. All for nothing. Everything was going to become nothing.

This was all too real. All too real now and Gerard felt like he was going to throw up.

“I don’t-” he starts, walking away from the feeling that they all brought to him, covering him in reality and plastic wrap. He wanted everything to slow down. He wanted everything to rewind.

To when he was feeling good, when he had just killed and was truly a god. He had been knocked from his pedestal. He was nothing, for now. But before, he was everything.

Lyn-z was the first to react. “Stop crowding him, Trohman,” she shouted and her partner deftly took a step back, obeying instantly. “He’s having trouble coming to terms with this.”

The man still watched him with a blank stare, Lyn-z the only one trying to help.

Armani looked on, saddened by what was happening for him, not making a move to help, though. Just watching, always watching.

He feels a dull rage at her, something infantile and elementary about being told what he was feeling. But he can’t handle anything besides the sickness making him weak on his feet. His joints felt like veins, blood pouring out. He felt like he was collapsing in on himself, he didn’t want to do this anymore. He didn’t want to be this anymore.

The person they thought he was.

He just wanted to kill, just wanted to be himself, make himself into what Frank wanted. He only wanted to be what Frank wanted but he had fucked up.

Now the little test that Frank was putting him through was real. He should have acted quicker, stepped up to the plate instead of twiddling around quicker. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to be this anymore.

“Please, leave,” he pleaded through shaky teeth and even shakier bones. He didn’t want them to be there, they were taking up all the space around him. Space reserved for Frankie to inhabit. He couldn’t breathe with them around. He could feel the air compress into his lungs. How could they be unaffected by this?

Armani looked at him with pity, sad and gaping eyes at his body, crumpling like paper mache.

“We have to get a statement, Gerard. It’s time,” she says. And her voice is hot like sundae syrup, thick and molten and ruining his ice cream cone. Her voice was sweet, sickening.

She was bringing to terms everything that he had never wanted to hear, everything that was bad for him.

He didn’t want this to be happening. You know, reader, that he wasn’t meant for this. He wasn’t cut out for this.

There was nothing but silence for the next few moments. Sounds of him trying to stand again, to calm down was ruining the glass sheet that hung over them. There was nothing but hissing for a few seconds, Armani awkwardly standing to stare at him.

He breathes through his teeth, a soft hissing of protest. He knew that he couldn’t resist, that they had to be allowed this. But he just doesn’t want to face it. He wants to live in ignorance. How pure would it be to be ignorant?

He gulped and stood up, aware of the buzzing skin of the woman next to him. He wanted to push her away. What did she know about him? What would she learn about him in her meddling about? He didn’t like any of these people.

He looked to Armani, she looked tired, sad. He felt the pain of murder, the first time in a long time, on his hands. He owed her this, something simple for once. Even if she never knew that it was he that was responsible for all of this, he wanted to rectify it.

He looked into her eyes, a few feet away, blocking out the man in the trench coat, now looking at all of his things, his life, with vague disinterest.

He shuddered out a weak little, “Fine.” It was all he really could muster.

The woman with the lipstick dangerously near to her pearly whites, smiled widely again. “I hope you don’t mind if I could have a little session with you at the station?” she asked, eyes wide and staring at him. She was the one crowding all his space. She was the one that he wanted to back off.

“I have work,” he stated to her. He didn’t want to miss this. He hated being a flake.

He needed money. Mikey needed money. They were running low on food and everything. They weren’t even going to make rent at this rate.

There was something so arbitrary attached to this. Something that was so common, so human as having to go to work. The thought had popped into his head and he had to do it.

He just had to go to work, forget about this for a few more hours.

She sighed to herself. “When do you get off?” she asked.

“2 PM,” he stated. He licked his now dry lips. This was taking his mind off of Frank, off of thinking about his baby.

He didn’t really understand what was going to happen to his Frankie. He wanted to make sure he was okay, but he didn’t want to give him away. It was all too real, everything was just all too real now.

He remembered his lover, sitting alone in a cell, waiting for him. He would run all the way to him if it meant that he could save him. He just wanted to save him because he had done this to him. He owed him, to come for him, to get him from the hell that they were both put through.

He reminded himself that Frank had a plan. That he was going to get out of this. Frank always got out of things.

“I’ll pick you up then,” Armani said, nodding and getting her two friends, the smiling one and the not smiling one, to come along.

He sighed, dodging the bullet that came with that.

He walked into his room, getting dressed. His appetite was gone from that ordeal.

There were just a few more hours that he had gained from all of this. A few more hours of letting himself forget about all of the fucked up things that they had done that had gotten Frank into jail.

He didn’t want to think about them.

He put on the shirt that they gave him for the job and black pants. It all felt so normal.

He hadn’t felt this way since he was a teenager.

The walk to his car was cold, he didn’t want the jacket. He just wanted to get his mind off of everything as much as he could. He would go bare armed if it meant that he would be ignorant of what was going on for another few hours to the best of his abilities.

When he got home that night, Armani and co were in his house again. Mikey was nowhere to be seen, even though he didn’t have a class. Maybe he had just let them in and left for his room.

He wasn’t sociable when he was tired and finals were driving him even more into the ground, Gerard knew that.

He sighed again and pushed past the smiling woman, looking at him with subtle adoration. He got it, he was a basket case known by many. He didn’t want that to be his current legacy, but as long as it let him keep killing, he would be alright with it all.

He looked away from her face, dropping. He didn’t even bare to look at her partner, he just looked towards Armani, waiting with her own hopeful face. “Alright, I’ll come with, just give me a few minutes to get dressed.” He said this to only her.

Then he addressed the two others. “And you guys, get the fuck out of my house,” he said, only ever looking at their feet.

He didn’t like those people and he was sure that they didn’t like him. He didn’t care.

He knew that he probably had to stay on their good side if he wanted them to think he was innocent. But he was tired and if he cried enough he would get the same effect. He knew how to play people. He had been doing it for the entirety of his new life. There was nothing new to him here, the entire country but a select few knew him as the victim.

He was sure that they would believe that too, they would think that Gerard was nothing but a poor sap, taken away and forced to do terrible things.

He wondered how they could even look him in the eye, if they wanted to look him in the eye in the first place.

They obeyed, despite him being such a small being, taking their leave from his house till he was just with Armani. The quiet settled in like death, soft. Like they blamed each other for what was happening between them.

He didn’t want to do this. It hurt to think about, made him sick with worry. He was going to fuck up, he knew it. He was going to mess up and then Frank and him would go to prison. They would never be together again.

He didn’t let ARmani see his fear of that. He didn’t let her see that he was suffering inside, from something that she had no idea about if she thought he was innocent.

He wondered if she did think he was innocent or if this was a ploy to get him into their station, easier to catch and question, ambush. He wouldn’t trust them, didn’t want to trust them.

He didn’t talk, just looked up at her and walked back to his bedroom, ready to put on some actual clothes that he could be seen in. These were dirty, who knew working at a bookstore was tiring work?

He hadn’t registered it when he was terrified of three people standing in his living room, taking his lover away, but that morning he had still been in his pajama pants.

It would have been worse for them to take him away then. He couldn’t imagine it, sitting in a cold chair with batman covering his legs. It would have been a ludicrous idea.

He was a little embarrassed, thinking back on it, realizing that he had talked to them and had a bit of a break down in his pants. Everything always happened when he was in the worst attire for it.

He walked into his bedroom and felt the blood on his hands, running through the little lines in his palms like ink blots. Like they were ready to give him away.

There were worse things on his hands than being in sweat pants. Like the scar that he still had from Frank, sticking out like a pink bullet, a knife in his hands forever pressed upon his skin.

The scar was the enemy and he made note to put some gloves on as well as some of his thicker jeans. It was cold after all.

Going to work in just a shortsleeved shirt was a bad call because he was still feeling the biting cold from when he got off of work till now, several minutes later and several floors up.

He walked out a moment later, breathing heavy and following Armani out of his house. He didn’t want to say goodbye to Mikey and Pete, he didn’t want to disturb what they probably had going on. He was going to let Mikey sleep, he was going to let him stay inside.

He knew that he needed space during this time, that he was going to have a hard time in the next few days and he needed to nurture himself.

So Gerard decided not to walk in on Mikey and Pete, the little world that Pete had helped him create.

And it was probably a good thing, because Mikey was still mourning his brother, cradled in the arms of his lover, stronger than him. He was weak. He was weak and he needed someone else to keep him from falling apart.

Gerard didn’t know because Gerard didn’t see. He followed Armani out of his house and into her car, away from his brother who was covered in a forgotten lover.

He felt his blood surge into his body. He didn’t want to talk about this and he was terrified of being suspicious. He didn’t think of Mikey when he left the house, following his acquaintance down the steps and to her car.

Armani caught on but not in the way that he thought she would. They all underestimated him. They all thought he was weak. This would work to his advantage.

‘Don’t worry, Gee. This will all be over soon,” she said, patting his arm as she started the car as soon as they got out of the building.

It was cold even when the heat was on and Gerard could see his breath when he asked, “Any leads with the New One?” She knew who he was talking about, it was all anyone was talking about.

Armani looked sorrowful, face shifting from caring and compassionate to sorry for him. They were all sorry for him. Everyone was sorry for him. If only they knew who he was. What he was. He was fooling them all.

He hid his smile, trying to think of something that was currently gnawing at his brain. Frank. When was he not in his head? When did he ever stop thinking about him? He had to be careful, he had to stay humble. If he got to arrogant that would be his downfall. He needed to keep it a secret. He needed to keep everything a secret.

He turned back to face the front. “So I guess that’s a no?” he said, feigning a small smile. It was so weird to act like he wanted Frank to go to prison, play the victim. He was getting good at it though, used to it. He huffed a little laugh, awkward in the new freezing silence. He could be good at acting. He was going to be good at acting.

She pulled out of the parking lot and gave him the same sorrowful look. “They think you’re doing it,” she said in a small whisper, looking away at traffic. She was sorry for even saying it.

She felt terrible for Gerard, seeing the light drain from his face as she said it, blanching as he himself looked away. He didn’t need that. He didn’t need people thinking he was a horrible person.

She didn’t think he was a horrible person. She thought he was a good person, caught in an unfortunate time, caught in an unfortunate crime.

There was nothing for Gerard to be guilty of. He was a victim, plain and simple. And he was too good for it all.

She felt terrible as she watched him start to cry, shimmery water in his eyes, threatening to spill.

He did not deserve the backlash he was getting. He was innocent and she knew it. She knew that he was a good person, that he had just been placed under terrible circumstances.

She could see how much it was ruining him, the fact that he had been forced to murder was terrible for him. The bags under his eyes were angry and adamant. He looked like he was tired and had been through hell. She was sure that he was in need of a nice long rest.

She wanted to let him rest, she really did. But she needed in writing, on tape, something that really solidified what he did to him and to others.

She needed to put him away for as long as possible. He couldn’t be getting out and wreaking havoc on this poor boy. He was wasting away.

Frank was in jail, away from him, but there he was, still picking at his scabs. He was going to be worn away till there was nothing left.

He didn’t deserve anything that he was being given. He didn’t deserve anything besides happiness.

Armani just wanted him to be happy.

It hurt to see him like this.

Gerard’s blood ran cold and he felt tears prickle for real at his eyes. “You think I killed those people, Armani?” he asked, voice cracking.

She felt terrible for him. No one deserved this.

Armani dashed her eyes at him, looking at his cracking voice and creeping tears. She didn’t mean to make him cry. She didn’t mean to make him sad, or frame him. She felt terrible for Gerard. She just wanted him to be happy. “Oh, no, Gee,” she started, placing a nailed hand on his shoulder, curling like a mother. “No, I don’t think you did it. We’re going to find the sicko doing this, and we’re going to put them behind bars,” she said, nodding matter-of-factly. Gerard could blankly see through his fake tears that she was buying it, trying to console and drive and keep her distance all in one fell swoop. It was hilarious. Or at least it would be if Gerard wasn’t afraid for his freedom.

He wouldn’t have an easy time getting Frank out of jail if he was in there himself. He almost shuddered, but masked it when he went back to sobbing.

He felt a little bad. She was a really nice person, trying to make him calm down. She cared, even if it was for a person she only thought existed.

He had to make Armani think that he really didn’t do it. That he was the person he said he was, made her believe he was. That it was another sick fuck that loved to murder people. No one could know that he was The New Jay.

God, he loved to murder. People were starting to suspect that, he supposed. But not Armani. Armani was as innocent as she thought he was, clueless, naive.

He didn’t want them to know till the big reveal, till it was the surprise of a lifetime. Plot twist of a century. He needed to wait till it was the end of the movie for them to know what he was, what he did.

“I just want it to be over,” he lamented, hands over eyes and tears under fingers. He truly did want it to be over, he just wanted Frank back. He just wanted his lover to want him again.

He needed Frank to be happy. He needed Frank to be his lover again, to want him again. Frank wanted him to be a murderer and he had done it for him. He had killed for him and he would die for him.

He just wanted him back.

He wheezed harder, letting the tears flow out with some difficulty. This time the tears were actually real, coming out with his love for Frank. He was letting himself cry now, letting himself give himself over to his pain.

He had never cried, never allowed himself to cry about it. But the floodgates were open and he didn’t have to pretend anymore. He could let himself cry, give himself over to all the feelings.

He just wanted Frank to love him again. He just wanted Frank to care about him again.

He would get him back soon. But not if he kept fucking up like this. He was giving them more information on Frank, putting him in jail.

“Shh, baby,” she said in a caring voice, fingers massaging into his shoulders. “It’ll be over soon. I won’t let them take you away, Gee. Don’t worry. He’ll go to jail for a long time,” she said, moving her fingers over his shoulders.

Her voice was cooling in his ears, in his head, wrapping around and making him a little guilty.

He sniffled the tears back inside of his eyes, up his nose. He let the crying peter out slowly, looking to Armani with red eyes. He was still feeling the tears inside of him, but he could forget Frank enough to stop crying again, sell his story.

“I didn’t kill people, Armani. And if I hurt them, he made me,” he said, hands shaking. He felt the scar pick at the fabric of the glove. He was a fraud, a murderer. He didn’t want her to know. What would she think of him?

Any guilt that he used to have came back to him, snapping like a noose around his neck. He couldn’t breath. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Armani didn’t answer him, just shushed him like a mother and moved her hand around his shoulder, her fingers dancing on his clothes, scratching him into a calming pattern.

He didn’t like the fact that the silence was gaining on him. He didn’t like the fact that he still felt like dying. She was trying to console him and she was going about it all wrong. But she couldn’t tell her that because he was lying.

So he was going to buzz for the rest of the day. He was going to twitch for the entire week.

He would talk to Pete about this.

He would think about Frank when he went to sleep. There would have to be something that could save him from this terrible feeling.

He just wanted to go home. Wanted to sleep. He was so tired. He was so tired of it all.

The fleeting thought of blowing his brains out came to mind. He didn’t want to deal with this anymore.

He was ready to give it up, ready to make Frank disappointed when he heard out about it. He just wanted to hear his voice again.

He wanted him to love him again. He cared so much about him. He just wanted him to love him again.

He just wanted his love again.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, landing his fingers on the plastic dashboard. He stared down at the marks it had within it. His breathing was jagged, in his throat and coming out like claws from his body to get life.

He was going into full on panic attack mode now. He just wanted Frank to love him.

How could Frank love him if he wasn’t capable of handling pressure?

This was the first time that he had to go through with this. There was nothing like this that had ever really happened to him before. There was nothing that warranted him coming down to the station where Armani would question him, where people would strip him of his everything he had.

He already felt naked around them, already felt that they would ask questions that he would not want to answer. There was always going to be something in the way, keeping him from Frank.

He just wanted to see Frank. He just wanted to see Frank.

“Calm down, Gerard. We’re just going to ask you what happened. You take all the time you need. We know that you didn’t do anything wrong. We will find the person who did this and we will get them,” she said, turning into the station, one hand on Gerard’s shoulder still. She was holding on like he would fly away from her, like he was going to drift into the sun if she let go of his shoulder for just one second. Poof, gone.

She was much too nice for Gerard, he decided, knowing that she was too good for Gerard.

Gerard felt a little guilty, always felt a little guilty, when he was faced with the fact that everything around him was so human.

He was nothing but killing, a love for such. There was nothing really human about him. He wasn’t really anything. He didn’t have empathy, he didn’t have sympathy. There was nothing but Frank but now there was nothing.

He was nothing.

Wasn’t that such a lovely thought?

He was just a killer and it was amazing.

He was nothing but someone, waiting in the wings to ruin everything. He was going to be amazing. He already was.

But he still felt the guilt, seeping through his skin, dark and foreboding. He didn’t like the idea that he was here, with Armani, a cop.

She could find him out, could look him in the eye hard enough and get everything out of him.

He didn’t want for her to have to do that. He wanted to get out of there with the least waves as possible.

His palms felt sweaty in the gloves. He was like a child again, being ushered in to be scolded.

She turned off the car with a sigh before twisting her torso to look at him. She put her other hand on his shoulder, squeezing and smiling at the still sniffling man. She was a good friend, if Gerard was a good person he would remark on this.

But he was nothing, nothing without Frank.

He was nothing without the one he loved. He had to love him back. He would shatter.

He let Armani carry him away, carrying on a conversation he had since forgotten.

“Armani, I’m scared,” he let out truthfully. There was nothing keeping him from being convicted. There was nothing but luck under his belt. He knew that he had to play it cool. But he also had to play as if he was innocent, small. Something that could be manipulated by both parties.

“I don’t blame you. You must have been terrified. I’ll let Lyn-z see you first. She can help calm you down, she knows what she’s doing. Then I’ll get your statement when you’re ready. Don’t be scared, Gerard. It’ll be over soon.” She tried to say that like it was a good thing but Gerard knew that it only meant that the dream would truly be dead soon after.

The bruises had already faded. If he didn’t get Frank again soon he would have no reminder other than the scar.

He loved him so much, he just wanted to remember him. Just wanted to be with him.

He loved Frank so much, he wanted to get closer to him. He wanted to be closer again.

There was more of a distance then there were miles between them. He just hoped they stayed the same when he got Frankie back.

She exited the car and Gerard did soon after, rubbing his nose of snot and tears from his eyes.

He moved into the station with her, a different station than the one that Ray died in. He was grateful that it was. He wasn’t sure he could stand the death of his friend with all the guilt he already had within him.

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about how totally okay Gerard was with everything.

He thought back to the time that Frank had said that he killed Ray. Gerard was cool with i. He remembered the blue light coming in through the windows. It was early morning in Neverland.

He loved Frank so much. He just wanted to be with him. He would do anything to be with him.

He would do anything to be with Frank. He would kill thousands. He would get people to think that he hadn’t killed thousands. Anything he had to do to get Gerard to want him back. He would do anything.

He breathed, this police station was different than the other one by a few things. Nothing that stated much importance.

He didn’t want to see where Ray died. He didn’t want to remind himself that he had known him, that Ray had been close to him.

He knew that Mikey felt the majority of the pain. Gerard had Frank and everything he ever wanted. There was someone else for him, but there was no one there when Mikey really needed it.

And trust me, reader, Mikey needed it. He could have benefited from the contact before Pete was a bad guy, before he was being told to spy on him.

Mikey was gullible, someone who was easy to manipulate. Gerard wondered if he was ever saddened by Ray’s death anymore.

It wasn’t too long ago.

Gerard was looking at the building, for the first time ever feeling terrible because he didn’t go to the funeral. There was nothing that he could do though.

He missed his friend, Ray. He was a good person but everyone seems to be taking it harder than he was. Armani probably still gets sad and Mikey definitely did.

He had forgotten it for the time being, when it was convenient. But now it was something different, manifested and nearly biting him in the ass. He was going to lose his new emotional poker face, trying to do eveything all at once. He couldn’t think about these things.

He didn’t want to go back to the regret that he felt, full forced upon him. He had been the reason that Ray was dead, he was the reason that Ray had been murdered. He was the reason that he was no longer alive, no longer his friend. He loved Ray, but he was dead now and it was all for love.

He could have stop Frank. He had the power to stop Frank. But he was selfish. He wanted him and he wanted him as soon a possibility. There was the chance that he could have been a hero. But he let himself be drugged and taken away.

He didn’t have a say in murdering people.

But that didn’t mean he was a he was a bad person. Everyone, even Frank knew it. Frank knew and he was testing him. For what, he wasn't sure.

The sweat in his gloves were making his hands itch as he followed Armani into the building. He had to be careful with this kind of stuff. He had to make it seem like he was innocent or it would all be for nothing. He needed to make it seem like he just really didn’t want to talk about Frank.

In reality he was in love with him, obviously. He liked talking about him, really. Maybe it was good that he was being interrogated.

He had to make sure that they thought he was innocent. It was already coming into question. He just had to cry, maybe even make himself sick. They would believe him if he made himself vomit.

He didn’t want to see the detective called Trohman. He would probably think that he was the murderer. He would weasel it out of him. He didn’t want him to stare inside of his soul.

He shuddered into himself, Armani guiding him into the building. She smiled at him, “You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to. Don’t worry, Gerard. It will all be over soon,” she said to him, still gentle. She was being really nice about this kind of thing.She was really nice.

Gerard felt bad for needing to lie about what he and Frank had done but there was no avoiding it unless he was giving a confession.

She kept saying that, but he wasn’t sure if it really was going to be over. He wasn’t sure if she really knew what it was. She was clueless about it. Gerard was freaking out because he knew what was truly going on. She was just trying to be soft.

He let her guide him inside, giving the guard a nod.

The man was chewing a piece of gum, loud and cowish. The guard nodded to him and Gerard nodded back, meekly.

It was hard to believe that he was a serial killer. And that was his angle for this thing. If he could get them to think that he was as soft as possible he would be in the clear.

He had to get them to think that he was innocent or nothing would go right for them, nothing would be right for him and Frank.

He had to make sure that he didn’t give anything away, that they didn’t think that he was The New Jay. They had to think that he was innocent, because he needed to be with Frank.

Frank was everything. They had to be together or Gerard would be nothing. He was nothing already.

He got up from where he was sat, casually with his feet up, to stand and look at the two. “This him?” he asked. His voice was thick with something foreign, an accent from a big city along the coast. Gerard didn’t like the man, he scared him.

Everything scared him now.

Armani seemed to be comfortable with her obvious coworker. She smiled at him and his gum chewing habits.

“Yeah,” Armani said. “We’re going to see Lyn-z first.” Her voice was still soft in Gerard’s ears.

The man looked Gerard up and down, trying to maintain his manhood and not let it seem that he was to flimsy. He could feel the tears drying on his cheeks and he knew that the man would be able to see the stains. There was no use in trying to get him to see him as an equal. Maybe it was for the best though.

“Poor kid,” the guard said, shaking his head and walking away from him.

Gerard was going to be sick.

Armani leaned into his ear as the man walked into the office. “I’m gonna take you to Lyn-z’s office. Then she’ll hand you over to me,” she said.

Her voice tickled his ear and he shivered again, hearing the waves caress through his eardrum. He nodded and let her push him gently forward.

“Don’t worry,” she started again. “Lyn-z’s real nice once you get passed the ‘weird obsession with your case’ thing.”

He nodded again, deftly, putting on a new game face and turning into the hall that she directed him to.

The room to the side of the hallway, filled with a few more offices and grey walls, had Lyn-z’s name and profession on it. She was their criminal psychologist.

“She’s going to need any information on Frank’s behaviors to see if she can pinpoint a disorder,” she explains, knocking on the door.

Gerard’s hand flex within the gloves. They wait for the door to open.

Lyn-z opens it with a flourish, smiling widely at the two individuals waiting outside her door. Her lipstick is stuck to her teeth in one spot.

If Armani notices, she doesn’t say anything about it.

“Hey, come on, Gerard. We’ll have a little chat and Armani will go set up for your talk with her,” she said, taking his hand and bringing him into the room.

She closed the door as Armani was walking away, down another hallway. Gerard could hear her muffled footsteps down the hall, through the door before she was gone, into the silence that was enveloping the room.

She smiled wide and broke it with a hammer. “You loved him, didn’t you?” she asked, hopping into a seat across from another one, a table in between them. “Please, sit down,” she adds, gesturing to the chair.

“What?” he asked, nervously laughing, soft and breathy. He couldn’t believe the one that he had least expected had figured him out. He sat down in the chair, the silent scraping on the chair on the floor.

He stared at the table as he sat, gloves in his lap, covering his dark secret.

“You loved him,” she said slowly. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell,” she smiled.

Gerard felt himself grow hostile, red and nervous. He wouldn’t be able to do this. She was going to tell everyone about his big secret.

“He took me. And he ruined me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Of your own volition,” she said, matter of factly.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, he made me murder people.”

Gerard was met with the realization that this was what people thought of him. People thought that he had been made to kill people. That was an odd realization.

People around him, if they recognized him, were met with the fact that he had seen terrible things.

She stood, jumping into action, calling him back to attention. Coming over to his side of the table, petting his face with the back of her hand she spoke in a soft and sinister voice. “I’m here, Gerard. I know you. I know what you did, what you do. That you’re the New One,” she said.

His eyes lowered away from hers. He didn’t want to admit it. Then the fun would be taken away.

Pete knew and he wouldn’t tell because Gerard trusted him. No one else knew besides him and Frank. This was new to Gerard.

His entire world was crumbling down. He was going to crumble apart.

She spoke softly again, getting under his skin. “Did you like it?” she asked, fingers raising his face to hers.

He pursed his lips and decided it was futile. “Yes.”

She smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

She asked him another question. “Did he really kidnap you?”

Gerard shook his head. “No.”

She smiled wider. “You love him. And correct me if I’m wrong, you’re killing in his name,” she said. Her voice was low, just hitting his ears like the secret that was unfolding still needed to be kept under wraps.

And it did, he didn’t want anybody to hear. He didn’t want anyone else to know that he was truly bad. Not till it was time. Not till it would count for Frankie.

“Yes,” he said, gulping.

She let his chin go. “Cute,” she remarked before going back to her seat.

She still stared at Gerard, watching him watch the table. “Retell the story, Gerard. I’m fascinated to hear about it,” she said.

Gerard could feel her gaze and knew that he should just answer. She wasn’t going to tell. She wouldn’t. She was one of The Jay’s followers. She was one of the one’s that Gerard could get to work for him, help him.

He needed it. He was sure that Pete and Gerard weren’t going to be able to get Frank out of prison on his own. He wondered how much she would help him. If she would help him or if she was just obsessed.

He sighed and let himself recount it. “He told me. When he was drunk once. Several weeks later, he killed that one guy,” he started and she listened to him, moving her hands to tell him to keep on.

“We left, my brother ratted him out. Killed a few people when we were getting to Portland.” He was going through the quickest of the story that they had, he didn’t want to dwell on it when he would be retelling it to Armani in a few minutes, leaving out the parts about his accompliceness.

“Why Portland?” she asked, enjoying even the shortest version of his story. Her feet were up like the man out in the office when he entered. But she was anything but his level of bored.

She was intrigued into what he had to say, listening to him talk in the most vague of terms.

“Far away.” He didn’t want to out Pete, she didn’t need to know him. No one really knew him. Armani just thought that he was his boyfriend.

He really hoped that he was. That what he left in Mikey’s room was them, getting back together and falling in love again.

He didn’t want Mikey to be alone. He didn’t want his brother to be lonely anymore.

He had Frank and Mikey would have Pete. He needed him. When Gerard left it would wreck him again.

He felt a twinge of guilt for his brother, for his best friend who he was putting through hell.

He didn’t want him to have to feel like that, but Gerard needed to be with Frank. He was a killer.

And his brother didn’t needed to know that. He didn’t need to know anything about the new dark side of Gerard.

That would destroy him even more than what he already thought had happened. He needed to keep him safe.

He needed to keep it a secret till he ran away, till Mikey figured it out for himself. He couldn’t face his brother’s hurt like that.

He didn’t want to.

He continued with his story, looking up at her, not into her eyes. Anywhere but her eyes where she would be judging him, reading him, figuring out more.

“He tried to kill me,” his voice got dark, he had forgotten this part. “He tried to kill me,” he repeated again with a softer voice. He couldn’t believe that Frank had done that.

It felt different telling it to another person. He could think about it as something that he did wrong. But that was out in the open. This was to a person.

He tried to kill him.

Lyn-z could sense the situation herself, lips going pursed, falling as she heard those words.

“You still love him?” she asked. The room had grown colder, freezing them in place, stopping them from moving.

Gerard nodded, not speaking. The swirls in the table were calling to him. He could not look into her eyes.

“Why?” she asked and he couldn’t help but bring his head upwards to meet her eyes.

She looked sad for him, confused and pained at his misfortune.

He scrunched his face and thought about it for a second. He couldn’t answer it well but he tried to answer it the best with something that he could let himself fall into. He shrugged, his shoulders. “I was too pure. He was just trying to make me like him,” he said. He was excusing him. It was the best he could do.

She licked her lips before moving on and the spell was broken. Gerard dropped his head down again, staring at the way the brush movements on the table had gone, ghosting in circles around each other, dancing in beige forever.

“So you came back? To your brother? And you want him back now?” she asked. She was still soft, lips shimmering like waves, little circles like the table.

He sighed to himself before looking up again. His fingers rested on the table. “I wanted to leave, called Mikey after he did that. But when Mikey and Armani came to rescue me, I didn’t want to be. I just wanted to be with him. He let me go home.”

“He’s trying to test me, you know. He’s trying to see if I can kill like him. He’ll take me back once I’ve proven myself to him. He’s going to love me again,” he tried to explain himself earnestly, so she would believe him, understand him.

She had to understand him, he wanted Frank back. This was what he had to do to get him back.

Him trying to kill Gerard was just the first set of motions. He was just trying to get him to toughen up.

He was a murderer now, he was good enough for Frank now. He was a killer and he would get Frank to love him again.

Frank loved him again, Pete had told him that he had. He was going to be with Frank again. He was going to be happy again, make Frank happy again.

He smiled to her, wide and like her own. She would understand, she had to. She was like him, but she knew it.

She smiled back. “Yeah. I’m sure that he already does, Gerard. You just have to get him out of prison,” she stated, looking to him in a suggestive manner.

He perked up. “Will you help me?” he asked her. He needed her help. She could be valuable to the operation.

“Of course,” she said, the same energetic smile coming back. “I would do anything for you.”

Her voice had a dripping tone of desperation, something that Gerard wasn’t sure he knew how to interpret. The sentence was odd, out of place.

He didn’t want to meet her eyes, the space around them growing awkward.

“Thanks,” he said anyway, standing up. He finally looked at her again. “Come talk to me later. I’m gonna go lie to Armani now,” he said, and the statement sounded just as weird as hers in his head.

It was nice having someone to joke with, someone who knew what was happening. It was the same feeling as it was with Pete.

Like things were getting better, coming into place.

 


	9. Changing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! This is a little treat to make up for how short the last two chapters had been and the fact that it's well, you know, Christmas. I hope you have a wonderful holiday. I know I will!

  
When Mikey woke up he vomited. Everything had come rushing back to him. It was not helping that in the middle of the night, in the midst of his sleep, he had just seen carnage. All of that death, all of the knives. Everything that reminded him that his brother was not his brother. Everything that reminded him that everything was fucked.

All he saw were knives.

Knives with blood and knives that were clean, glittering like the sea.

The smell of corpses permeated inside of him. The sound of death haunted his head. He hadn't even killed but he would never get it away from him. He wanted it out of him.

He threw up harder against his bed, the sound of splatter against his floor waking Pete up.

Pete sat up and looked at him, then at the vomit. He made a look of disgust before rubbing Mikey’s back, letting him get all of it out. He was so gentle, so patient. He just wanted Mikey to be safe. He just wanted to keep him safe.

He continued to rub circles till Mikey was just heaving, caught in between heavy breaths. He was doubled over himself, vomit running out of his nose, looking so small as he was. He looked like he had gotten the shit kicked out of him. His skin was waxy and waning. He looked pale and sweaty. He felt terrible for him. He was shaking with the weight of his own mind.

Pete didn't know he would take it this badly. He had no idea that Mikey was going to make himself sick over it.

He felt terrible for letting him find out. He felt terrible for doing this to him. He would never be able to right his wrongs.

“Shh,” Pete commanded of his lover, voice soft in his ears with patience and love. “Shh, baby. He’s not here right now. I’m gonna get you some water and clean this up. Alright?” he says, slow and soft. His hands lingered lowly on his back before he got up and walked carefully around the vomit. He tiptoed himself around as to not step in it. To his great relief he was successful in getting out of the war zone unscathed.

Mikey let him leave and continued to huff to himself, trying to rid himself of all the thoughts of Gerard. He couldn’t live like this. He was going to die if he continued to be like this.

He felt tired. So tired of everything around him. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted everything to be over.

It was driving him mad. Just when he thought he was at least a little bit okay with all of this it hit him again. And then there was some unfortunate feeling in the middle of his tummy. The feeling like it was going to get even worse soon enough. He didn't want to be like this. He just wanted someone to love him. He wanted someone pure to love him.

This was going poorly for Mikey. Nothing was in his favor.

He looked up when Pete came back with water and cleaning supplies. Mikey would have blushed if Pete wasn’t part of the exact thing that he hated.

He felt so stupid, sitting with his head over the side of the bed. He was a fool. He had just thrown up and Pete was being nice and cleaning it up for him.

He wanted to vomit again, but the feeling sank into his stomach. He had nothing else to vomit up. There was nothing else for him to feel. His stomach was empty and he was dry heaving. His entire body strained against the emptiness inside of him. He looked away from Pete. He couldn't stand to look into his eyes.

Pete pet his back again while cleaning up his vomit, watching him with a frown. He nodded to the water that he had set on the end table. “Drink your water,” he commanded, one hand on his back and the other spraying the carpet.

Mikey smelled like vomit. He smelled like failure. Like someone that nobody could learn to love. He was all alone.

He was going to cry. He was going to cry and vomit and be pitiful. He didn't want to be pitiful. It was just who he was.

Mikey reached a shaky hand out to get it, taking as much as he could in his mouth no question. Pete could hear the retching, echoing inside the cup as he tried to suck in the water.

He cleaned up his vomit with one hand, rubbing circles onto his back.

Mikey’s brain strained against his skull. His eyes seemed to pop out of his head every time he forced something that was not there out. The water barely hit his throat when it rocketed out from him again. Anything that he got inside of him rejected him, running out like blood, frothy with hate. He couldn't get Gerard out of his mind. He couldn't stop seeing his brother killing. He was a real killer. He was a murderer and Mikey didn't even realize it.

He had no idea. But this was the truth. This was real life. He was a murderer.

He was going to be sick again.

All he saw was blood. Knives and blood and his brother, smiling and laughing as if it was all just a huge joke. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. He couldn't believe what he was.

He hated feeling this way. He was making himself sick because of his brother. He was killing himself over all of this. He just wanted to end it all.

He couldn't deal with this. Everyone he knew was two faced. Everyone he loved was bad.

And he wasn't sure if anyone loved him back. He just wanted someone to love him.

He felt overwhelmed. He could feel the dull pressing of Pete’s fingers on his soul, pushing against his spine. He tried to focus on that, not letting his mind wander to what he truly was. He tried not to let himself feel the pain of his fingers. They were burning because he knew they were drenched in the acid of illegitimacy. They had been dipped into the vat of hate.

Everything was impure now. Everything was fucked up now.

He ached all over, his bones chimed as they clacked together. He was a skeleton for the second time in a short period of time. And he had been granted a few days of bliss. A few days of ignorance. But now it was all gone and he was left with the sinking feeling that he was worse off than before.

Gerard was doing fine. He was free and happy. Mikey was dying.

But nobdy cared about Mikey. Nobody cared about how much he was hurting. They thought he was all fine. Everyone, even Pete thought he would be okay.

He wasn't going to be. Everything had changed for the worse now. Everything kept messing up. There was nothing he could do to fix it. He just wanted everything to be okay. But it couldn't. It would never be okay.

He felt the tears run down his face again. He was doing a lot of crying lately. He was dying, lately.

“Pete!” he called out to him, even though he was right there, cleaning up his vomit. He loved him so much. What would he do without Pete Wentz? His voice broke through the sobs. He couldn't do this alone. He didn't want to be alone.

It hurt too much to talk. He regretted calling out to him, needlessly, when he dry heaved into himself again. His stomach was rolling around onto itself, flopping around like a fish. A dead fish, a fish without water.

He was drowning and there wasn't even an ocean for him to dunk his head into. That was the worst part about it.

Pete shushed him and threw away the towels. He hurried back to him, doubled over the bed, crying and calling. He was breaking apart. And Pete was terrified that he would shatter right in front of him.

He just wanted to keep him together. He just wanted to make sure that he was okay. But there was nothing he could do. There was nothing that he would be able to do for him.

He had ruined him again. He had put him back together and now he was unraveling with the help of everybody else. He hurt him and he just kept hurting him.

He wanted him to be okay. He just wanted to make sure he was okay.

He pushed him back with gentle fingers so he was lying down on the bed, body flat on the mattress. He would have to start with the little things if he wanted to fix him.

Mikey felt his stomach bubble. He wanted to turn over again. He wanted the pain to stop. He just wanted it all to stop.

Pete felt his stomach, rubbing it like he was his back. “You’re making yourself sick. You need to stop, baby,” he said. He stared at him, eyes careful and gentle. He just wanted to keep him safe. Keep him together.

Mikey stared at him, into his eyes. He was trying to calm himself down. “He killed, Pete. And you knew.” His eyes teared up and his voice cracked. There was betrayal in his eyes, in his voice. It was so thick that it choked Pete.

Pete looked at him with sorrow in his eyes. He was sorry. He was so sorry. He didn’t mean for him to learn anything. It was all his fault that he learned everything. Now he was upset, now everything was fucked up. All because he was too loud when he talked to Gerard. He could have made it better for Gerard, made it better for Mikey. He could have kept him together.

He could have kept him safe and happy and unaware. Even if it was just till it was convenient for him to find out.

Now he was unraveling and he had nothing. Mikey was sand, falling out of his hands. He needed him. And he needed him whole. He didn't want him to fall apart. He loved him too much for that.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He stroked his face, taking his fingers to move against his soft skin. He was pale and green with the vomit that was still in his soul. He looked so small. He felt terrible for Mikey. He didn't deserve to feel this way. He was too small to be this way.

He was so fragile. Pete just wanted to keep him safe.

Mikey started crying. He stared at Pete, eyes drilling into his soul. He let his hands work to Pete’s face. He was trying to feel what he had used to love. Why he still did.

He had no clue why he loved Pete. After all he had done to him. Maybe it was out of necessity. Maybe it was the fact that he was all alone now that made him want him back. It was the need of a lover.

Was he selfish because of that?

"I'm so sorry," Pete said, reiterating again what he said to Mikey before. There was no words that told him how sorry he was for him. How much pity he felt for him. He just wanted to love him.

Mikey didn't say anything. His face just crumbled in sickness again. Pete worried that he would throw up again. He hoped that he wouldn't.

Mikey didn’t reply, but he wanted to. He wanted to talk to him and talk about all of this. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to say. He didn't know where to start.

“I love you,” Pete said to him, getting near to his mouth, giving him a kiss, despite the fact that he just threw up. He kept up the conversation, struggling to tell him how much he cared. Struggling to keep it up even though Mikey was unresponsive.

Because he did care. He would go to the ends of the Earth for Mikey. He just kept fucking up and wrecking them. Wrecking everything.

He ruined everything for Mikey. Despite how much he loved him there was just something that he couldn't do. He couldn't give up on Gee and Frank. And he couldn't change what he had done. He was a killer.

Mikey couldn't deal with that. And Pete never asked him to. But it was still a bummer that that was standing in their way.

It was something that he had done a while back. He didn't like it as much as Gerard and Frank did. But he was still one of them. A criminal, a killer.

And Mikey didn't want anything to do with him. He was bad.

Mikey didn’t answer again. He looked away, turning himself back around and staring at the wall.

Pete licked his lips, feeling the sour taste, foreign and laced into his sickness. He backed away, running his fingers through his hair. He would just have to leave him alone again. That was what he wanted.

But he was still hopeful, so he still asked. He cared about him, wanted to love him, was going to love him if he let him.

But Mikey was not having any of him. He didn't want him. Still he asked. Still he implored that there was a sliver of hope that Mikey could stand him for a few more moments.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked. His voice was fraught with the fear of rejection. He didn’t want Mikey to not want him. He needed him. He wanted him to love him. He needed to be close to him.

He was the only thing that he would ever love. The one thing that he would never have. He was the only thing that he wanted.

Mikey turned back to him, like a flash of lightening, with fear in his eyes. His arms reach out to touch him. “Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me alone,” he choked. He became terrified of the prospect of being alone with Gerard. He didn't want to be alone with him. He needed Pete to keep him safe.

Pete smiled wryly but obeyed. His fingers wrapped around Mikey’s shoulder. He stayed where he was, near to him, next to him, not daring to get on the bed with him. He would fuck up his delicate body if he grew near to him anytime soon. He needed to be careful with him. He couldn't get too close to him.

Mikey blinked and looked up at him, holding onto Pete’s shoulder with his hand over him. He furrowed his eyebrows. “I love you,” he whispered. He stared at him, golden eyes bleeding into him. He sighed before saying again, “I need you.” His knuckles were strained and white on his own shoulder, coming over Pete's hands. He wanted him. He needed him.

Pete went softer, not blaming him for being as confused as he was. He was a bad thing. He was something that Mieky didn't want to be apart of.

But he could love him now. He could love him till he had to run away again. They could never be together but they could come together for the moment being. Till fate tore them apart again.

“Don’t worry, baby. He won’t hurt you. He loves you, believe it or not,” he said, stroking his cheek, holding his face in his hands.

Mikey sighed and dug his face into his hands, tears streaming on his fingers in a line. His crying was wetting his calloused digits, making them slippery on his skin. “I’m scared, Pete.” He sighed again. “I don’t even know my own brother. And I don’t know what to do with all of this,” he said. He shook his head. He was freaking out over these facts.

Everything he knew has changed because of this. He couldn't handle this. He wouldn't be able to handle this.

He loved his brother, but this was insane. He was bad. He was a murderer. He didn't want to even be in the same house with him. He could only love his brother if it was under the condition of never having to think of him in this negative light again.

Because that was all he was anymore. Negative light. He was nothing anymore. Not his brother, not his friend. He was just a killer. And Mikey was another potential victim. He was a murderer.

He was going to vomit again. He was going to vomit again if he didn't make sure that he didn't think of anything bad.

He had to get his mind off of that or he would have another mess on his hands. At least it was better than blood.

He focused on breathing, on maintaining something to keep him together. His stomach was killing him. His head was killing him. He couldn't focus. He couldn't keep his head off the idea that Gerard was most likely out murdering people. He wasn't anything good anymore. He would never be good anymore. Because he was too shrouded in darkness to be good.

Pete licked his lips, thinking about what he had said. He hoped that Mikey didn’t tell Armani about this. That would get him in trouble, too. He hoped that he didn’t tell. Everything would go to shit if he did.

Gerard would be pissed if Mikey snitched on him. He might even kill him if it fucked up his plans with Frank enough. He knew that he wouldn't be happy, that was for sure.

He was actually worried about that, what would happen. Gerard was unpredictable now. He was something to be reckoned with and he didn't want to have Mikey to have to do that. He wanted him to be safe.

But it was like trying to keep two atom bombs from exploding.

He didn't know what Mikey was going to do and he didn't know what Gerard was going to do. They were both unstable. They were both filled with a rage, a need to do something that would be toxic to the entire plan.

“Don’t tell anybody,” Pete commanded. He had to keep him safe. But he had to keep everyone else safe, too. He didn't want Mikey fucking this up on a whim. Because he knew that he would do that if he wasn't careful. He had to monitor him. He had to make sure that he wasn't going to do anything stupid.

He sensed Mikey was going to object to that, his mouth opening to make the sound of protest. He stopped him before he talked, holding up his finger. His mouth was kept agape at the moment, caught in the space before making a sound and emanating it.

“Please, Mikey. I know it’s bad. But it would be best if we just let this play out.” He was pleading with him, trying to keep it as under wraps as possible. He didn’t want Mikey to worry about what he should do. And he didn't want this to fall apart. He had to keep it together till he covered all of this up.

Mikey tried to protest away, getting his words through. “But he’s a killer!” He wanted to give everyone justice. He wanted to give himself a peace of mind. He didn't want anyone else to die. He just wanted to keep everyone safe.

Gerard was a bomb, he was waiting in the wings to explode. He was going to explode and kill everyone.

He was going to throw up again. This was not want Mikey wanted to happen. He didn't want this to go this way. This was all wrong. Everything was all wrong.

“So am I!” Pete pointed out. He was just as bad as Gerard. He pointed to his chest, his heart beating like a bird, a dead horse. It was faster as he shouted at him.

“But you’re not letting out another killer.” Mikey bantered back, getting closer to him, in all of his space. He was trying to cover for Pete because he loved him. He loved him and wanted to justify that to himself. There was no reason why he couldn't be excused. He was not as bad as Gerard. Not as bad as Frank.

Pete noticed how close they were. But Mikey was too caught up in justice to pay attention to the way their breaths brushed. He was just trying to argue with him. “I am,” he revealed.

Mikey backed away, stunned. His face held a disgusting look. Pete was just as bad as Gerard. He loved Frank, too. He wasn't going to leave him, either.

“What?” he asked, even though he knew exactly what he was talking about. He knew exactly what he was saying even though he desperately wished that he was just mishearing him.

“I’m going to help Gerard to get Frank out of jail.” Pete was slow now, feeling the absence of Mikey in his space. He was cold.

He was used to the feeling of feeling alone. Mikey was hot and cold when it came to this. Sometimes he was righteous. Other times he was as unthinking as the wind. He was trying to justify his mislead justice.

But he could not overlook this. He could not overlook Pete consorting with the enemy. He was not apart of Mikey's reign. No one was anymore. There was nothing for him to control.

Everyone was Frank's now. He couldn't hate it more than he already did.

Mikey licked his lips and looked down again. Pete could see his knuckles whiten as they turn into fists. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have anything to say.

He was trying to keep down the sick in his stomach. He didn't want to think about this. He didn't want to think about him, getting Frank out of jail and leaving him again.

He wanted to do everything but let him leave. He wanted to leave. That was what he wanted to do. He wanted to have control over this, over him.

He loved him. He just wanted him to be good. He just wanted him to be what he wanted.

He wasn't anything that he wanted anymore. He wasn't perfect. He wasn't pure.

He was tainted. Like old white clothes there was nothing there anymore but stains and a pale yellow feeling.

The sun would not rise on them again.

It was cold, night time. But not the good kind.

“I’m sorry,” Pete apologized in a reproachful voice. He was quiet, trying to apologize for what Mikey thought of him. But there was no amount of apologizing anymore that could fix it and he knew it. He just wanted Mikey to be okay. He wanted to make him okay. But he was making it worse. He always made everything worse.

Mikey got out of bed, passing Pete up as he walked to the door. Their shoulders brushed and Pete felt all the life jump out of his body. Even his heart wanted to scatter it's arteries to chase after Mikey more effectively.

The distance was only a few feet between him but it was like heaven and hell. He felt so far away.

He was always so far away from him.

He was dressed in clothes from yesterday still, able to go out, just a little disheveled.

He was quiet, soft and unspeaking, like Pete wasn't even there in the room with him. He ignored him for his own sake.

He was closer to throwing up than ever. He was trying to keep down the panic.

He was going to get Frank out of jail. He was going to release hell on the world after he had gotten justice.

He didn't want to have to do this. He didn't want Pete to do this.

But he had no other choice.

He had to cut him off. He had to get away.

He didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want to be with him anymore, near him. He was toxic, radioactive. Everything about him was bad. He was so bad.

He opened the door and walked into the hallway, heart stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to live in a world where Frank did. He didn’t want to live in a place where murderers rampaged. This was all so fucked. Everything was fucked up.

He wobbled on his unsteady legs to his destination. He didn't want Pete to follow him but he had no such luck.

“Mikey!” Pete trailed after him, holding out his hand as Mikey put on his coat. He was angry, not stupid. He didn’t want to be cold.

He had to clear his head and he couldn't do that if he had frostbite.

It was too cold for him to go out in the open like he was. All he had on was a short sleeve.

“What?” he asked, popping his collar up, sticking on a hat as well. He glanced at him, pursing his lips at his pale face. He didn't want to stay long.

He had to get out of there. He was afraid Gerard was going to come back. Terrified that he would be pushed back into his bedroom with Pete again. Terrified that Gerard would be there with him, ready to kill him.

He knew now, knew what they were going to do for Frank. He wanted to keep himself safe. He had to weasel his way out of there while he could. He couldn't stay for much longer. He was so scared Gerard could come home.

He glanced at the clock, hand on the door. He needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said, “Please.” He was begging. He loved Mikey, he wanted him to be safe, to be good. He wanted him to keep his nose out of it because he didn’t know how Gerard would react to him and what he had done to him before. He was so scared for him. He was terrified of what would happen to him if he told anyone about this.

He would get in trouble, too. Pete would go to jail. He didn't want that to happen. But he told himself he was looking out for Mikey, too. It made him feel like maybe he wasn't the worst person.

Mikey scoffed at him. “Don’t worry. You monsters will be able to walk around.” He walked out the door, leaving Pete to watch it swing back shut. There was the thud of the door closing and him walking away.

His words were daggers in his soul. He could be cruel when he wanted to be. He could be confusing if he wanted to be.

 

Mikey was standing at the park, watching all the people pass by. They were as huddled as he was in their coats, ears and noses red, cheeks ruby with blood. He wondered how much Gerard had seen, how much he had made spill. The blood that was behind his eyes were now behind skin.

Pete walked up next to him, a familiar figure in his life that he was resenting again. He wanted his space from him. He didn't want to be next to him. He was sickening.

He scowled at him, folding his arms on himself. “Leave me alone,” he said, disgruntled at Pete. He didn't want to be near him right then and there. He looked at all the people passing. They didn't have his problem. They weren't burdened with this secret like he was. They were luckier than him.

He just wanted to be alone. He wanted to be by himself, to be normal. He had to get used to being alone. Because there was going to be nothing but him soon enough. He wasn't worth sticking around for.

His brother was going to leave again and all that guilt, all the murder would be on his conscience. Because he loved him too much to turn him in. He could even advert his eyes when he got Frank out.

He sighed and hung his head. He was just a pawn in a game and he was currently aware of it.

“I love you,” Pete stated, looking away himself. He acted like he could make everything better with just that. Mikey wanted him to be able to make it better with a few words. He loved him, obviously. But he couldn't just say that to make it better.

Mikey didn't think that was true anymore. Or if it was it was not the level of truth that he needed it to be.

if he loved him than he wouldn't be helping Frank to get out of jail. He wouldn't be letting him and Gerard go free. He would be with Mikey. He would be giving all of that up.

He didn't believe Pete. He didn't want to. He wanted to make it easier on himself and forget Pete.

He wanted to be able to push everything aside and run away.

He would have to run away himself, disperse and get away, find someone else to love him.

This was too big for that. This was too big to just sweep under the rug no matter how badly he wanted to do that. He had to face his problem, or at least let it play out.

The wound was too big for him to put a band-aid on it. This was bigger than love. This was justice, morality. This was bigger than running away, being able to run away.

This was everything everyone else involved didn’t have. This was a question of whether or not they were good people.

He just wanted to do the right thing. But what was the right thing?

He wanted to be loyal to his brother. He wanted to let him be happy. But there was something else involved with this. There was murder on his hands if he let him go. If he let Pete go. Gerard would be happy with a murderer if he let him get away.

But if he told, that would also send Pete to jail. That would send the love of his life to jail.

Well, he deserved it. But then again, he wasn't sure he did. He was almost as innocent as Mikey in all of this. He was just the supportive friend trying to help them be happy.

He couldn't blame him for doing that. He couldn't blame him for helping.

But he was going to. Because it was the only thing that could give him the upper hand. This was the only thing that could get him to distance himself.

He had to distance himself. He was going to be alone soon.

He didn't want to be alone, but it was what he had to do. He didn't want to be covered with bad people.

He didn't want to be consorting with bad people. He had to make this sacrifice.

He wiped his face. There was nothing but guilt and sorrow kept on him. He could never wipe it away. Everyone knew that he was bad. That he was selfish.

That he would let his brother get away just like Pete would. Except Pete was much more happy to let him leave. To help him leave.

Frank and Gerard were going to get away. But the difference between Pete and Mikey was that one was active. Mikey was unwilling to let them go but he was sure that he had no other choice but to let them go.

He shuddered at himself as Pete went on. He took a sigh, “And I want you to love me, back. And I want to take care of you,” he said. He professed all the ideas of the future that he had with him, being happy, staying happy.

Mikey would never want to be with him. He never wanted to be with him. He was a terrible person. He was bad. He was so bad. But he listened to him anyway, listened to him profess and speak what he would. He didn't really care. But he listened anyway.

They didn’t have to be around Gerard. He just wanted to love him. He just wanted him to love him. He would do anything to get Mikey to love him. His heart fluttered at the idea of kissing him, holding him, wanting him. He wanted him so much it was ripping him apart.

Mikey sighed. “Give it a rest, Pete,” he said, cruel. His voice was bitter, like a splinter, sharp and daunting and sticking into his soul. He was going to die alone because Mikey as so good.

He was too good for Pete.

Pete didn’t. “I love you. I love you and I’m sorry I met you.” He looked at his feet for a moment. He never wanted it to go this way. It would have been much less complicated if he had just stayed away. It would have been less complicated if he lied a different way, if he just kept it a secret for a little longer.

Mikey agreed with that. “Me too,” he said. His voice was bland, turning him back into a statue. He was a brick wall and he wasn't letting him in.

He just wanted to be let into his head. He didn't know what he was thinking. What he was even feeling. He wanted to love him. He did. But he wanted to be able to show that love to him.

This reminded Pete of when he first met him, standing next to him. He didn’t want them to go in circles like this. They were always going in circles like this.

He wanted to progress. He wanted Mikey to love him. But he understood that he couldn’t love him like Pete wanted him to love him.

He knew that he was bad and that Mikey didn't deserve to hurt like this. He was too good for this. God, he was so good.

Pete grabbed at his hand, cold in his own, limp and wasting away. He was getting so thin, it worried Pete. He moved slowly into his grasp, feeling electric on his fingertips when he touched him. He loved him. He was so hopelessly in love with him.

He wanted Mikey to look into his eyes. He wanted mikey to love him again. But he couldn't. He would't. He wouldn't care about him because of who he was.

He accepted that. But he could live a little bit, just for a little bit longer. He could only like when he was with Mikey. When he was holding Mikey, even if it was in the most minuscule of ways.

Mikey let him, but he didn’t grasp back. So Pete curled his fingers around his limp ones, just hoping to breath some life into his fingers. He loved him so much he just wanted to be loved back.

His face fell to watch the slush, black and gravel filled. Tainted. There was no snow, only the slush that felt like rain on your shoes, sticking to your skin like a vampire.

The winter was bitter and it was dying. Pete just wanted it to be spring.

Pete let Mikey’s hand fall as the silence grew longer. He moved away from him, watching himself distance himself. He wanted to be close to Mikey. But he had to go away because Mikey didn't want him. He would never want him.

He wanted to keep him safe. He wanted to make him happy. He would never bee able to do that for him. So it was best if he just left. Mikey could figure it out. He sure as fuck wasn't going home yet.

Mikey spoke as he heard the crunch of snow as Pete’s feet moved away and crushed it under his shuffling feet. He didn't want him to leave but he wanted him to go.

“I love you,” he said, his voice dark yet absent. There was nothing holding them there. There was nothing holding him there.

He said it like a fact. Like it was something flat, as if he was only talking to the floor. There was no emotion there, it was just the casual and unfortunate mishappening.

Pete knew that Mikey loved him. But it was not enough. It was never enough to keep them together. To keep them happy.

It would never be enough.

He turned away from him, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking away. Mikey was still stood there, nothing but the nothingness for company.

Pete was going to leave him alone because he loved him, because he couldn't be a rubber band anymore. He wanted to keep him safe. He would do that from afar. Mikey didn't need him close anymore.

He fucked up. He had fucked up and he loved him.

But it was never enough to keep them together. Nothing that Pete did was never enough the make Mikey happy.

Mikey was in love with the person that Pete told him he was. The one that didn't kill, that didn't have a backstory, that didn't know Frank or Gerard.

That was the one that Mikey wanted. But he was still confused as to why he loved this Pete. He loved this Pete, wanted the other.

Everything was fucked.

Pete didn't dare look back at Mikey as he walked away. If he looked back it would break his heart all over again. And it was already shattered.

 

Gerard sighed, relaying his story without any of the details that would get him and Pete in trouble. Armani listened, rapt attention. She held a pen in her hands, loose with casualty. She was writing down what he was saying about Frank and about all that he had done to him. What they done to people.

He shivered as he thought about it. Armani thought that he was just disturbed. But no, he missed it. He missed killing because he loved to do it. He loved to murder and destroy.

But he had to act as if he was the victim. Like he hated this.

He was trying to act as best as he could but he wasn't sure it was going very well. She hadn't caught on yet so he thought that this was going pretty well.

“He killed them, Armani.” His face puckered into the face of a man about to cry. He remembered what they had done to Natalie, how he felt after that kill. It was hard to remain close to tears when he was that euphoric. He had to get himself to remember something upsetting.

He switched his thoughts to Frank. To Frank on that night when his test got set into motion.When he tried to kill him.

He thought back to that and real tears prickled into his eyes. Score.

"He killed them and I couldn't save them," he said to her, tears (fake) welling up into his eyes.

"Shh, Gee, it's not your fault. Frank was the killer. You were the hostage," she said. Her fingers reached out to touch him, to console him. She wanted him to know that he didn't have to feel bad because he was just put in a bad situation.

She felt terrible that he blamed himself. He shouldn't. He was good. He was a good person and he didn't deserve this. (Little did she know.)

Her fingers were supposed to warm him up. But all they were were ice on his skin. He went colder himself, trying to think of ways to continue to sell it to her. Ways that he could make her think that he was innocent. That part was key in getting Frank back. He had to not fuck this up.

Gerard put his head on the table. "Armani, he made me hurt people." He made himself shake for effect. He was a pretty good actor, if he did say so himself.

Armani didn't know he was faking it. Armani didn't know that he was making all of this up. He was playing her. He was playing everyone. He was faking it and only Lyn-z knew. Armani was completely ignorant of that.

It was their little secret. She didn't have to know. She would never know.

"It's not your fault, Gee," she said, massaging his shoulder. She was the most innocent person in the room.

She was nice to Gerard. Gerard felt a little bit bad. He felt terrible that he had to fool her like this. That he had to play her. He liked Armani, she was cool.

He was playing her like a fiddle. There were holes in the plot someone would see through, though. Like Trohman. He had to watch out for him.

He had Lyn-z on his side. Lyn-z would help him through all of of this. Lyn-z was Trohman's partner, he could get her to dissuade him if he ever caught on. He would be a harder fish to fry.

He was lucky to have her as his friend. She would be valuable to him. He just hoped that she could keep quiet. He just hoped that she was legit.

She was standing next to Armani, ready to jump in as the counselor and calm Gerard down enough to speak. She stared at him with daggers in her eyes, not malcontent or malignant, but kind, watching him like a hawk. She was making sure that he was okay with intensity.

She was inching closer to his crying form, ready to speak and tell Armani to be better about this sort of thing. She would tell her something along the lines of 'he needs time' or even 'give him space.'

He had heard this when he was being questioned before. All those weeks before, before he had even killed his first person.

It was hazy, thinking back to it. Setting it all up, killing Ray. He shuddered to think about that. He didn't want to think about it.

He recoiled away from Armani, from that thought. He didn't want to think about that. That was his biggest regret. Nothing else was quite as potent as the fact that he had killed one of his best friends. One of Mikey's best friends.

He felt bad that he was now leaving his brother alone, that he was going to leave and he didn't want Pete. He had no one now. He was just working with Armani to help Gerard and he was sure that a friendship couldn't bud under pain. There was something about it that just made for acidic soil.

His brother was going to be alone when he left.

He thought about that more, the fact that he was leaving him to die. He was leaving his brother all alone with all the bad things that he had done.

He was going to have to come to terms with the fact that his brother had to find out that he was a killer.

Maybe he would kill him, let Frank kill him. Maybe he could put him out of his misery. He could clean up behind himself.

He figured that it was only time before he had to die. I mean, he was living with Gerard for Christ's sake. He had to die sometime.

He couldn't learn that Gerard was a killer, it would cut him up inside. He had to put him out of his misery. It was the only way to go about things.

He would think about it later. He didn't want to kill his brother. He had to focus on his act. He had to make sure that he was selling this to Armani or he wouldn't even be able to see Mikey let alone kill him.

"Gerard, we need you to tell us how many people he killed," she said.

He took a sigh, looking at her hands before answering. He was getting his head back into his character of a victim. But he was actually kind of stumped by this.

Armani thought that he looked so small. His face was red, covered in the pain that he had gone through. She didn't want to have to do this to him, but she did. She was trying to take care of him. But she had to get the information. She had to make sure that they were getting the most information they could.

It was like putting a dog out of it's misery. She felt terrible for having to do this to him. She didn't want to poke at the wound. But she wanted to get Frank in jail for as long as possible. This would seal him away for life, maybe even put him on death row.

She would like to see him with a lethal injection. She knew that Gerard would, too. He would like to hurt him just like Frank hurt him.

He answered her, calling her back to what he was saying. "There was Natalie. Oh god," he whimpered, before sobbing dryly. He liked that kill. He loved the first kill that he made. He remembered it like it was yesterday.

The thought made him miss Frank. It made him want to get him back.

She shushed him, calming him down to the best of her ability. She wanted him to be alright. She knew how much this hurt him.

Frank would go to jail but she knew that the scars would last forever. "Shh, tell me who else, Gerard," she commanded, gentle but firm. She needed him to tell him what Frank had done on that hell trip.

"There-there was the other man, too. And shit, I'm not sure if he killed anymore," he trailed off. He started looking away from Armani, holding his face and trying to remember what they had done. The wall had a stain on it that he figured was something from coffee. What they might have done.

He really wasn't sure about who they had killed. Had it really been that little of a body count? It was only a few weeks, but Gerard felt like it was more monumental than that. But it was his first few, of course it felt bigger than it was.

They would have to fix that when they ran away again, when they got away again. They would go on a killing spree to let people know that they were moving on to greener pastures. He would get as many kills under his belt as Frank had.

They would kill the entire country if they had to put themselves in the history books.

Gerard felt the marrow buzz in his bones in anticipation. They were going to kill everyone. And everyone would be sorry that they hadn't thought of him when they thought of death. They were stupid and that was why they were all going to die.

He would change their minds about that. That was for sure. They would feel terrible that they underestimated them. They would all be sorry.

Armani didn't notice that he was secretly laughing to himself. She didn't notice that, under wraps he was not the victim.

Armani felt bad because he looked like he was shaking, trying to remember all the things Frank had done. All the bad things that Frank forced Gerard to do with him. He was sick, Frank was. He was a bad person. But she didn't know that he was as bad as Frank. She didn't know anything about him.

What she knew was what Gerard wanted her to know. She knew that he was shaking and that he was hurting, in her eyes he was hurting.

"Gee, shh, calm down. We got the information we need from you. Let Lyn-z take you home and get some rest," she commanded. Armani backed out of her chair, removing her hand from Gerard and turning to look at Lyn-z. Her glance was sorrowful as she nodded to the door. She was signaling for Lyn-z to take him home.

She would be better at dealing with Gerard more than she was. She was intuitive to these kinds of things. Because she studied these kind of things.

Armani had no clue how to deal with his pain. She was just making sure he got justice. She was just making sure that Frank would be put away for a very long time.

No one should have to have blood on their hands. No one should have someone smear it on theirs against their will.

She could only imagine what Gerard was going through. She had no idea what was happening with him. She just knew that it was terrible. She felt terrible for letting this happen.

She should have caught Frank. She should have caught him and put him away. She was a bad cop. He had spent years murdering. He had spent years doing shady things. They could have arrested him ages before he even got to Gerard.

He had been scarred because she had slipped up a few times.

She felt terrible for Gerard. But she was going to get him justice. Frank would never see freedom again. He was going to get what he deserved.

She had to do this for Gerard. This was her job, but it was also personal.

 

Lyn-z sat with Gerard in her car, more relaxed than Armani since she wasn't really a cop, just a consultant. There was nothing much things that told she was a cop. Armani had the actual cop car. This was just something Lyn-z used to get to work, this was her own car.

Gerard wiped at the fake tears, Lyn-z watching him. "What's it like?" she asks him, awe in her eyes. They were wide and wet with wonder.

Her voice was quiet. If Gerard wasn't paying attention he wouldn't have noticed her speaking to him. Her voice was breathy, eyes wide and happy. She was like a naive child, asking about god and death and something bigger than herself.

His mouth relaxed as he wiped at his eyes. "What?" he asked absently. He looked to her, furrowing his eyebrows.

Her voice was just as soft again as she clarified. "Killing. What is killing like?" It was like a feather. She was so cute, so small. So innocent.

He almost didn't want to tell her what it was like since she was so pure. It would be a waste of a good person.

She rested her head on her hand, elbow resting on the arm rest of her car door. She licked her lips as she stared, intense and eyes wide.

He smiled at that, not caring if his answer did aid in the destruction of a good civilian. "It's a lot of fun. Exhilarating. Like a roller coaster," he said. It was the only way he could describe it, there was adrenaline inside of him. He liked killing because there was the beauty of destruction in it.

"How many have you killed?" she asked. She was all full of questions.

More than Gerard had when Frank told him he was a killer. He was just scared when Frank told him he was a killer.

This girl was all sorts of weird. But it was refreshing. She was nice, and she was going to be helpful.

"The two anchorpeople a few days ago. And then two when me and Frank were away," he answered. He got finished wiping at his face and looked at her with a smile. "I plan to kill more." His smile was a dagger, wielded in his hand.

She smiled back, still awed. Her mouth was wide in admiration. He had gotten her starstruck. He had never made anyone like this before.

It was weird, thinking that he was now some twisted kid's idol. That people speculated about him. It didn't feel like it, like people thought that he was a killer, or that this was some conspiracy. It felt like people just saw him as a child. That people thought he was smaller, more innocent than he was. There were some though, that saw what he really was.

He was grateful for that. He wouldn't have been able to do half his killings if people didn't think that he was the victim in all of this. That was the fun part, pulling at all over his eyes. Murder was his new parlor trick.

He was playing all of the people that he needed to. Lyn-z would help him. Lyn-z adored him. She would help him get Frank out of jail.

He smiled at her again, at that thought. He wondered what was going through her head.

We know that answer, dear reader, we can look inside her head.

She was thinking about how she could die for him. He was so beautiful, so good at what he did. She wanted to be as good as him. And if she couldn't, she would make sure she was as least good in his eyes. He was so pure.

He was the purest of them all. She just wanted him to love him. She just wanted to him to love her. She just wanted him. God, she wanted him. He was so good. He was so good.

She wouldn't tell him that, though. That would scare him off. That would worry him. He loved Frank. He didn't like girls, and he didn't like Lyn-z.

But she could make him think that she was at least a friend. She could help him get what he wanted. And in turn he would teach her his secrets. She would go down in history, too. She hoped that he would help her kill, teach her to be like him. She would take their legacy and make it her own.

She wanted to be memorable. Dangerous. She wanted to be something that somebody wanted.

Someone would want to love her, too. She would have someone like Gerard had Frank.

Someone would want her. Someone would want her to want them. Someone would want her to kill them. To kill for them.

"Take me home, please," Gerard said, nodding to where she was sitting, staring at him. She was zoned out, dreaming of all the possibilities of Gerard loving her. Of killing for him.

She never really liked Frank. She liked him, but she never really loved what he did. She had something to love now. She had someone to want now.

Gerard was good to her. He was pure and soft and not like Frank. Frank was still so arrogant, so square and tough. Gerard was his opposite and that was why Gerard was so much more better than Frank.

Frank was predictable. Frank was a whirlwind. But Gerard was the rainstorm. He was unforgettable.

She would love to see him in the papers, in the headlines. She would know that she helped bring these two back together again.

She helped them, she was good, too.

She sprung to life from the languidity in which she sat. She knew where he lived, she had passed by his apartment building a few times. She knew it like the back of her hand.

She was so exited when she learned that she was going to get to meet him. She had been obsessed with him since she first found out about them. Him and Frank, that is.

Even if she wanted him to love her, there was something beautiful about Frank and Gerard. They were in love. They were two like minded people in love.

Frank taught him how to kill and now Gerard wanted him back. He was going to murder for him. That was true love. They were soulmates.

That was what Lyn-z wanted. She wanted a love like what they had. Even if she wanted it with Gerard. She would settle for having someone just as good.

They were good. Everything about them was pure. They were so good, so good.

She wanted to pure. She wanted to make herself pure.

"I want to kill," she told him, offhand and casual. It was the truth.

She had never told anyone else her little fantasies. Never told anyone else of her homicidal tendencies. It felt like she was taking drugs. She felt a little foreign tingle in her soul at the thought of saying it aloud.

There was something in speaking out. It solidified it when you said it aloud.

No one else would understand. But Gerard would. Gerard would know what she was talking about. He had gone through with the kill. He knew what to do. He would guide her, if she asked, she was sure of it.

"Yeah?" he said, looking at her again, eyes gently sliding over to her, where she sat, driving.

She blushed. "Ever since I was a kid. Used to cut me up inside. I was so scared. You're lucky you had someone to show you the way. Show you how," she shrugged at him. "Not so bad when you're not alone," he said.

"Wish I could help, but I got a lot on my plate," he said. He shrugged at her, dashing her dreams.

She was a little wounded, gripping tighter at the steering wheel.

"Can I at least watch?" she asked him, hopeful. She wasn't sure if she wanted to kill yet. But watching would help her understand it better, as well as not get in the way.

He shrugged, looking out the window and up at the building. He was not paying attention to her. He was not paying attention to anything but the window and the place where his brother still was, never to be seen.

He was getting worried about him. He would have to talk to him when he climbed the stairs to his home. He would have to search him out. He wanted to talk to him. He wanted to get close to him again.

He couldn't do that if his brother was waiting his days out in his bedroom. He wondered if something was the matter with him.

He looked back to her. "I'll call you when I go out to kill again. If I go out to kill again," he said, getting out of the car as she parked, still staring up at his brother. He was going to go see what was wrong.

He let his mind run wild. He grew more worried as the moments passed by. There was no movement from his window, nothing that even showed he was in there. There was the light that was emitting. Due to the darkness that enveloped the surrounding twilight at this late hour. He wouldn't have known that Mikey was in there if the light didn't give him away. He already wasn't really sure if Mikey was there or not.

He could have just kept the light on. Been irresponsible and gone to a class without conserving energy.

He wondered if he was in there or if Gerard had missed him again, convenient in it's placement of time.

He wondered if Mikey was avoiding him. But he would have no need to do that. He didn't know he was a killer.

"Thanks, Lyn-z. For real," he said, ducking down to stare at the person in the driver's seat. He was grateful for all eternity to her. She saved his ass. And he was sure that she would be invaluable to their operation soon enough.

She smiled, thin and closed lip. "No problem," she said. She became reserved again. She was bummed out that she couldn't watch him kill or kill herself. She would give anything to see him in action, to be in action with him.

"I'll teach you a thing or two when I have the time," he said, promising her what she so desperately wanted. He smiled at her before walking into his building.

She felt a little thrill in her soul. He was a murderer. And soon enough so would she.


	10. Purity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, happy new year. This one is even longer than the last one surprisingly! It all just fit together. Have a nice last few days of holiday.

Mikey felt the darkness seem to creep upon him. The quiet and the darkness that seemed to hit him from every side, making him colder than he already was. He didn't want this to go this way. He didn't imagine that his life would be this fucked all the time. He just wanted everything to be alright. But everything got so fucked in the process.

In the matter of a few weeks, Gerard had become a killer and Mikey had fallen in love with one. He didn't want it to go this way, he was sure that nobody did. But this was the hand that he was dealt. Even if the cards were a little burnt.

He was looking around at all the people as he walked, eyes dropping as they were discovered. Everyone was with someone else. Hand in hand there were children and mothers and parents and lovers. He was alone. He was all alone.

His hands felt so empty without Pete holding them. He wanted to love him. He wanted to be loved by him. He was a killer. They were all killers. He didn't want to be a killer.

He shivered and pulled himself closer. His eyes fell to his feet. He kept walking. He wasn't sure where.

He didn't want to be lonely. He was so tired being lonely. He just wanted someone to love him. He just wanted someone to want him. He was so lonely. He was so lonely. And that was the least of his problems.

Gerard was a killer and Pete was a killer. His brother and his lover were both monsters. And they were out and about about murdering people. He didn't want to think about it. It made his head hurt. It made his heart ache, freeze and fold.

His entire body seemed like it was swimming. He didn't like the idea of Gerard being out, murdering. He was dangerous. He was a killer. He was a murderer. 

He was so cold. He was so cold. Everything on his skin felt much too cold for him to handle. He didn't want to handle. He didn't want to have to. He wanted his problems to be sorted out by someone else. These weren't his problems anyway. They were Gerard's messes. 

His brother was a murderer and had dumped it on him. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to hurt like this. He was a good person. He was a good man. He just wanted to be loved. He just wanted friendship and to stay by himself. He didn't want any problems.

He just wanted Pete to love him. He just wanted to be loved by someone that he loved. To be loved by someone that was good. He sure as hell wasn't. Gerard didn't even love him. Pete was the only one who did, but it was not enough. It was never enough. Never going to be enough.

He loved Pete. He really did. But he didn't want to. He didn't want to have to love him. He didn't want to be stuck with loving the only thing that he came in contact with. He didn't want to settle.

He didn't know anybody. He didn't know anybody anymore. He only knew his parents, only knew Armani. 

Gerard was going to kill him within the few days if he didn't know what he did. And he was going to want to murder him more when he found out that he knew. He was in danger now. He couldn't be bothered.

Pete could save him. Pete could help him. But he was a killer, too. Maybe he would help Gerard kill him. He was terrified. He wanted to hold him agai.

He wanted to love him. He wanted to be protected by him. But he was much too proud to do that. He couldn't let Pete own him. He had to distance himself from him.

Pete didn't want him to tell on him and Gerard. And Mikey didn't feel particularly inclined to, yet. He didn't want to tell on him, that would get him in trouble. With Pete and Gerard. He didn't want to do this anymore. He didn't want to have to.

He was going to cry. He was stuck. He could only ever run away. He didn't want to hurt anymore. He just wanted to run away. He had to.

He was going to get away. He was going to die like this, lonely and without anybody. He wanted somebody. He just wanted to be with somebody.

He was too lonely for himself to have options. There was no one for him to love. 

He was all alone. He was all alone now. There was nobody there to help him. There was nothing for him. Nothing for him here at least.

The weight of that simultaneously lifted and created itself. He had nothing, no strings, no lovers. Nothing to watch over him. There was nothing anymore. Nothing but the feeling of hate. He was just going to have to run away. He was just going to have to get out of there. There was no place for him now. There was nothing for him now. 

He was terrified of that. Terrified and elated at the same time, torn by the fact that there was a nothingness inside of him. A nothingness that was growing more and more apparent. If nothing good loved him, he was nothing good himself. He wasn't pure himself.

He wanted to be free from all of this. This was his chance. This was his chance to get free. He needed to get himself out of here. He was going to get stuck in the mud again if he didn't stop himself from this. He had to run away for as long and as fast as he could. He didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want to have to be here anymore. He wanted to be somewhere else, someone else.

What was he going to do first? What was he going to do first? There was the world in front of him. This was his entire life in front of him. He was on top of the world, now. He had everything that he could ever want. That was, freedom of course.

But everything he ever wanted didn't entail the shit he had to go through to get it. And the fact that he would definitely be more happy with Gerard, innocent and still his brother. He didn't want freedom if it meant sacrificing happiness.

He had to get away from this. Away from all of this. Pete wasn't there to protect him anymore. There was no reason for him to stick his neck out for him. If he went home he was terrified that he would die. He didn't want that to happen. He didn't want to die.

Gerard was going to kill him. He knew that he would kill him. He was mad. He loved Frank after all that he had done. Ray, him even. He would love him forever. He would kill even his brother for Frank. He was a murderer. He was going to murder him.

And Frank didn't like Mikey in the first place. He was biased. There was no champion for Mikey Way.

Gerard would totally kill him if he went home. He didn't doubt that he would. And he didn't doubt that he would do it without hesitation.

He was a killer and a manipulative liar. He was a bad person, the capacity of which Mikey did not know.

He couldn't go home, that thought hit him hard. He was going to die if he did. He was sure that he would.

He didn't want to go home, anyway. He was suffocating there. All he had was all that was in his coat when he left. There was nothing for him anymore. He had his wallet and a pair of gloves.

Maybe he would walk around a bit, find himself a new place in the world. He was oddly nonchalant about this, he realized that he was. But he couldn't really find it in himself to care. He just wanted everything to be okay.

This was a big deal. This was something important to him. He had to spend his time wisely. He had so much of it now. He had to figure himself out now.

He didn't miss Pete. He was sure that he wouldn't. It was for the best and he was happy to see him leave. This was a new chapter in his life. But he forgot how to fucking read.

He sighed and scoffed his shoes on the ground. His hands were in his pockets, covered in warmth for but the sliver of skin that was met by the cold.

He loved him. But he shouldn't have started in the first place. There was nothing wrong with making mistakes. Prolonging them was his problem. He should have loved him, shouldn't have done that. He was going to really regret it one day. Now he just thought it a shame.

He didn't really mind that he had lied to him anymore. He wasn't scared of him anymore. He was scared more of Gerard, now.

After all they had been through, Mikey didn't seem to really care anymore. It was just a bunch of shit, upsettingly large and upsettingly dull.

It felt like nothing compared to all the stuff that Gerard was going to put him through. This was only the beginning of the end, the slope over the roller coaster.

He looked in the direction he had left. His footsteps weren't even there anymore. They were wiped away by the people that were covering them up. He wasn't angry at him anymore. He wasn't upset anymore. There was just the fact that he was a murderer. That was the only thing keeping him from being with him.

He didn't exist anymore. It was just him. It was just him in this world. He was a ghost now. How comforting. There was no one to look at him, to talk to him. No one to love him. This was a completely fresh start that few people had the chance for in life. There were no ties to him now. There was nothing to hold him down anymore.

He turned back to assimilate into movement, legs carrying him in the cold to somewhere that was not his home but would be.  He was walking away to somewhere where he would find himself. Where he could live and love. He didn't love these people, he tried to tell himself that he didn't love these people. 

They were killers. He couldn't. That was where he drew the line. They weren't family, they weren't friends. They were murderers and murderers they always would be. Mikey didn't want any part of it. He just wanted it to be over with. Why couldn't he skip forward a few months till he was okay? Or whenever time where this was all dust in the wind and he was happy.

He just wanted to be happy. He just wanted to be happy. There was no one that could make him happy anymore. He had to do it for himself and that was so hard.

He was trying too hard. Gerard wasn't his friend anymore, was only his brother by blood. Pete was never going to go anywhere with him. He knew what he was before anything. He was the one that he should have gotten rid of first. But he had sworn off his brother before Pete.

He should have quit him when he had the chance. Maybe the change would have been more gradual. Maybe he wouldn't have found out that Gerard was a killer.

He wished he hadn't found out. He wished that his life hadn't have ended with seeing his brother and Pete and making the connection between them. Maybe it would have been easier to let Gerard kill him in blissful ignorance. He was going to, one day. He knew that if he stayed any longer he would have died.

He didn't want to die. But it already felt like he had, a couple of times.

Maybe he would visit Armani, tell her that he was leaving. He would leave out the part about Pete. That was probably a bad idea but everything was behind him. He was starting out new. He wasn't even on his conscious now. He just wanted to rid himself of it all. He would turn the other cheek to his lover. He didn't want to deal with this. He didn't want to have to relay everything he learned.

He would die if he did. They would find him and kill him. It was best just to go there and vent. And then leave. He had to leave. He just had to get out of there.

But maybe he would tell her. Tell her just so they would stop their terror. He didn't want to have that blood on his hands. He didn't want to be a monster. He didn't want to be as bad as they were. The blood would run to his feet if they killed anyone else. He would be the person responsible for letting them go and kill.

His feet sped up at this, turning the corner, closer to Armani. He was at least going to see her, even if he didn't tell on Gerard and Pete.

He debated this. Armani would probably let him hang at her place. And he could get his clothes from his apartment and run away easier. He would rid himself of Pete and Gerard and Frank for good. Even if he was apart of this a little more longer. The question was not if he should tell but if he could survive it.

But he wanted to run away now. He wanted to leave as soon as he could to start a better life. A trial would just fuck it up. And he didn't want to fuck it up. He wanted to be free. He just wanted to be free. He didn't want to die he just wanted to be free. He needed to be free, they had clipped his wings and he was just growing them back. Turning them in would be getting them close to the fire. But not turning them in would turn their white feathers red with the blood of the innocent. He didn't want anybody else to die.

He was still debating whether or not to tell her as he waltzed down the street. He was staring at all the businesses as he passed, slow in his walking and generous in his strides. He was surrounded by people, walking faster, slower, different. He was all alone but he was not alone. And he wasn't lonely.  Not anymore. There was a quality to his thoughts that made him feel like he wasn't alone, like he wasn't the only person with a problem.

He wondered who would be the next victim. If they knew that they were the next victim. He would be a killer, too if he didn't stop them. He had to stop them. He couldn't let himself be selfish. He didn't want to be selfish.

He looked around at the people, the places. He had so much time on his hands, so much freedom. He was going to float away with the fact that he didn't have a weight on his shoulders anymore, nothing keeping him down.

Everywhere was his home now. When he just got away from his old one enough. He was far away from wherever he used to be. Everyone that he used to be. He had to get farther yet. He knew where Armani lived, knew where she was. He was going to go there for a little while. 

She could help him. She could help him figure out what he was doing. He would figure it out by the time he got to her house. He just wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to be the right person. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. He didn't want to have to betray his brother again. But Gerard really wasn't his brother now was he.

Gerard was a killer. Pete was a killer. He was numb to it all. Numb to everything. He was indifferent. There was nothing keeping him to them anymore, they had alienated him enough.

He didn't want their love anymore. And it wasn't like they had given it to him in the first place. It had been awhile since someone really loved him. He wasn't sure they ever did, anymore.

He knew that they probably wanted him to hurt. That it was their game to make him hurt. That was Pete's game all along, Gerard's game all along. They just wanted to hurt him and see him hurt. He was a pawn in their games, their murderous games. He didn't want to be that anymore. He didn't want to be ignorant anymore.

He was a killer, even if he didn't know he was. He had probably helped them, and he didn't even know it.

They just wanted him to hurt. They wanted to watch the world burn with him on it.

That was why Pete lied to him. That was why Gerard lied to him. There was nothing for him anymore.

They all lied to him and he was not having that. He was not going to have that anymore. He had to stand up for himself and stand up for someone else.

He knew all about them. And he accepted them for what they were. Didn't mean he was going to stick around. He didn't want to get killed.

He knew that he was the enemy, that he was the person they all hated. He was the person that was the obstacle. He was the true cork in their bottle. It was all out now and he was rolling on the floor.

He was pure now. He was so much more pure now.

He smiled and shoved his cold hands into his pockets. The snow was falling now, soft and gentle onto his skin. It was beautiful, pure.

Unlike all of the people that Mikey knew. Unlike everyone around him, everyone he had the misfortune of loving.

He was too good. He was always going to be too good. Nobody was as pure as Mikey. Nobody would ever be as pure as Mikey.

He had to tell Armani. He was going to tell Armani what they were. He had to. Because that would be the only thing that would rid him of all of this and make him the best person that he really wanted to be.

He took a deep breath and walked faster. He was pure. He was pure. He was pure. He would make it to her building within the next few meters. He would tell her in the next few minutes.

He was going to get this over with. Everything would end now. Everything would end with him telling her what Gerard did.

He wasn't going to let the band of murderers own him anymore. He wasn't a killer like them. And he wouldn't let them kill.

He was going to be pure. He was going to be good.

 

Gerard walked into the house and shook himself off. The cold was biting, still lingering on his skin as he continued into his apartment. He would take a little while to warm up.  It was brutally cold out there and only worsening.

"Mikey?" he asked, shaking off the snow that still stuck to his shoes, hung to his clothes. He was starting to get warmer, skin getting looser around his skin. When Winter hit his flesh felt tighter. The warmth was seeping in though, so he wasn't too worried. He took a deep breath. He was having a pretty good day.

He wasn't sure when he was going to go killing with Lyn-z. If he even wanted to kill with Lyn-z. She was overbearing. Even if he liked her, there was just something that was much too eager about her.

He wondered if he was like her when he first started out as a killer. He doesn't remember being. 

Even if she was annoying, he was going to take her. He would take her out killing, teach her a few things so when she started she wouldn't get caught.

He might not really like the girl that much. But he still didn't want her to go to jail. He would have to repay her for helping him somehow. She was one of the only people that he could trust. Other than that, there was Pete and there was Frank.

He shivered again, the coat still cold. His coat didn't seem to warm up like his skin did. He pushed warmth into his arms through friction, hands running up and down, quick and zipping. 

He would take her out in a few days. He didn't know who he would kill. Maybe he would let her write on him. Whatever message that he would write. She deserved that much. She wasn't a bad kid. Just much too eager.

Maybe that would tone down when she actually got her hands on an actual corpse. He hoped it would because blood thirst would make her reckless. And when you get reckless you get careless. Carelessness lead to being locked up. Even if he had never been caught, he was knowledgeable about these kinds of things. He had common sense, after all. Gluttony was a bad quality.

And he was sure that she had lots of it. So he would take her out, let her get a taste of killing. She would love it. That or she would run away.

And if she ran away, he would probably have to kill her. But she doubted that she would do that. So he wasn't too worried about it.

He didn't hear an answer as he toed off his shoes. They were still covered in snow, still covered in the slush and cold that he so remembered from outside. He shivered. He would be sure to take her out on a night when it wasn't freezing fucking cold.

He took off his coat and waited for his answer. "Mikey?" he asked again. His brow furrowed and he looked around the wall, into the hallway. He knew that he was alone now by the silence that rang. There was nothing in the apartment but his echoing voice. He waited for an answer, but there was none. There was only the quiet that worried him as the clock ticked by for the moments he stood, trying to hear for his brother.

His door was not open. But he knew that he was not in there. The light was off and there was no sound coming from the room. He was waiting to hear his voice, a thud, a snore. Something that would indicate that he was in there. But there was nothing for him to hear.

He furrowed his eyebrows and decided that he was probably out with Pete or doing something else. He shrugged it off. He was just glad that he had found someone to love him. He was wasting away in his bedroom. He was glad that he was happy and out. He was his brother and he wanted to be happy. He was glad that he was getting happier. He deserved to be okay.

He was a little worried about him, but he wouldn't sweat it. He could do what he wanted to do. It was his life, he was an adult. Besides, he was probably going to have to kill him when he got home. So he was dreading to see him walk through that door.

His poor brother would have to be killed by him.  What a terrible thought. What was he now? Was he a real killer because he was going to kill his brother now? He was a murderer because blood didn't matter?

He didn't want to do that. he didn't want to have to. But he was getting too close to what Gerard did. He was getting too close to finding out who he was. 

He couldn't let him do that. He had to keep his life a secret. He had to maintain the secret. If Mikey found out he would tell Armani. And if he told Armani, his plan would go to shit. Everything would go to shit. He had to keep this under control or he would never get Frank back.

Mikey couldn't know what he was. It would kill him. It would kill him. And he couldn't hide that when he ran away again. He would die when he ran away. He was fragile already, he was so small already. He needed Gerard to stay alive, he needed his image of Gerard to keep him going.

He wasn't what his brother thought he was. He wasn't like anything he thought he was. That would rip him apart when he found out. It would kill him just from the words alone. He was already so small, too small. He was pure.

So he wouldn't. He wouldn't tell him and he wouldn't let him know what he was. 

He would just kill him. That would take care of his problem all fine and dandy. He couldn't take any risks. His brother had to die. Even if he didn't want him to. He had to die.

He had to kill him. Because he was not strong enough to take the fact that he was a killer. He was sure that he didn't want that to be said. And he couldn't imagine having the conversation.

He was stuck, standing at the crossroads of the kitchen, staring at the fridge. There was no food in there. And there was nothing for him to want to eat.

He was going to kill his brother.

He shrugged it off and looked away. These thoughts were too painful. They were too much for him to handle, right then. He was tired and he was upset.

He decided that he wasn't hungry enough to want to eat and that he should just go to bed. It all felt so normal, so mundane. It was almost like Frank was slipping away from his mind. He didn't want that to happen. He didn't want to do that. He had to hold onto Frank. He had to hold onto him. He had to kill Mikey to hold onto him.

He yawned and walked to his bedroom. He rubbed his eyes and wandered over to his bed, stripping himself of his pants, of the day that had gotten under his fingernails. It was grimy and grungy.

He scratched his back. "Maybe I should kill Mikey," he said through the yawn. He was really thinking about this, thinking about hurting and killing his own brother. He didn't want to. But he had to think critically about this. It was an absentminded thought, the same one that he had had when he was making sure that Armani didn't find out who he was in reality. He felt bad for Mikey. He knew that he loved Gerard and that he wanted him to be a good person. But Gerard was not a good person. He would never be a good person.

He was not a nice person or a pure person. He was something that was bad, tainted, slushy like the mud outside the doors of the lobby. It was a dark grey, gravel filled and impure. He was going to have to hurt his brother. And he was sure that some sick part of him would like it.

He was sure that some part of him would view it as just another kill. It wasn't. Because Mikey wasn't just another person. He was a martyr. He was a mercy killer. He was his brother and that was the problem. That was the difference between him and any other victim. There was a real reason for him.

The other two were just a means to an end. Something to get Frank to notice him again.

Mikey didn't deserve to be hit with the realization that Gerard was a killer. He would kill him. Or maybe he would get someone else to kill him. He wasn't too sure. He definitely didn't want to kill him. And he didn't want to see him die. He was so scared that he might think that killing his brother was fun.

He didn't want to see the life drain from his eyes. This was not going to be fun for him. So he didn't want to do it. This would be absolute hell if he let himself kill his brother. He would honestly never forgive himself. He loved his brother and he wanted to keep him safe.

This was a mercy killing, he kept telling himself. He wanted to keep him safe. He wanted him to be safe. He told himself again, that this was a mercy killing and that this was something that he had to do so his brother wouldn't break apart. He just wanted him to be happy. And he would let him be happy for the next for days till he worked up the courage to kill him. It was the least he could do.

But he couldn't find out. He couldn't find out about him. He had to kill him to keep Frankie safe.

Frankie was the most important thing. He had to take care of him.

He wasn't sure if he would even let himself kill anyone else if he killed his brother. He loved him. He loved him and didn't want to do this to him. He would only ever be reminded of him if he did kill him. He didn't want him to die. He didn't want to kill him. And he knew that death would be tainted with loss.

He didn't want to be bad. He just wanted to be happy. Frank made him happy. And he needed to be happy. He was selfish. Mikey was selfless, Mikey was pure. He didn't want to kill him. But killing him would make Frank happy. 

Frank would never hurt him. Frank would never leave him if he pleased him enough. He would be proud of him. Then he would love him forever. He would love him forever.

Another rocket to the heart. Frank loved him. Frank would always love him if he did this one thing. He had to do this for Frank, now.

This was another kill now. He was another kill now. He wasn't his brother anymore.

He rolled over in bed and stared at the wall. He remembered everything. He remembered Frank. He remembered falling in love with him, knowing that he was bad. Knowing that he would be bad, too. He was bad now. He was a killer now. He had been a killer for a while, now.

He was nothing but a murderer. Mikey didn't need to know that he was a killer. Mikey didn't need to know that he hurt people and he hurt him. He didn't need to know that he was a liar. He was a killer and he would do his best to do what he was good at. Frank would love him even more if he did this for him.

He didn't want to hurt Mikey. He didn't want to have to. But it made it easier when he knew that he was doing this for Frank, to get him out, to keep him safe, to make him happy.

Mikey wouldn't love him if he knew what he did. Frank would. Frank would love him for it. He needed Frank, he needed to love him.

But there was nothing he could do. He had to kill Mikey. He wouldn't love him when he found out that he hurt people. He was a murderer and Mikey was pure.

He would take no joy in this. This was not a kill. This was a martyr. This was a necessity. His brother didn't need to know what he did. What he was. He could barely handle what Frank was. He wouldn't be able to maintain even the little bit of self that he had left.

He didn't have an existence past Gerard. It would cut him up too much. He already had to cope when he left the first time. That time he thought he was just stolen. He would have a harder time with this. He didn't want to have to do that to him.

But he wanted to be with Frank. He only ever wanted to be with Frank. He was the best thing that ever happened to him. And he was silly to think that he could make compromises. He was a killer. He didn't have to. Everything was black and white and red when it was a good day. He was a murderer. He was a murderer. He was a murderer.

He let a little tear shed for his little brother, the same person that he had told everything to. He wouldn't get to know that he was a killer. He wouldn't let him. He had to be put to rest. That was the only logical option.

He let everything slip through his fingers. He let everything die. He let Frank kill everything the he loved. He let himself kill everything that he loved.

He loved Frank and he wanted Frank. He was nothing but Frank. He was nothing but what Frank made him into. He just wanted to have Frank again. He was so good. He was the best thing that ever happened to him.

He would be selfish to not want him. There was nothing about him that he couldn't want. He needed him. And he needed to do this for him. He was good. He was the only good thing.

He couldn't save Mikey. He hadn't saved Ray. He couldn't save anyone if Frank wanted to kill them, just prolong their suffering. He didn't want Mikey to suffer anymore. He would kill him himself.

He felt sick to his stomach. He loved Mikey. He loved Frank. He was done trying to please both of them. He had chosen and he had chosen Frank. Now Mikey had to die.

He was too fragile to exist anymore. He was nothing. Gerard had already killed him. He just had to finish him off. He just had to end his suffering. He had to die.

Even if he didn't want to kill him. He really didn't. But he had to. He was so small. He had to lean on him, but he couldn't anymore because he was leaving. He was leaving because he loved Frank.

He loved Frank and he only ever wanted to be with him. He was too selfish to let his little brother live. And he knew that he was.

He just hoped the pain would stop by the time that he died. He just hoped that the wound would heal quickly. 

He didn't know what he wanted to do. He really didn't care. He was too tired. He was too tired to make decisions based on this. His brother had to die so Frank would love him. And Frank was the reason they all died. Everyone that Gerard loved died because of him and Frank.

It wasn't his fault. But it was his fault. He just wanted to be loved. God, he just wanted to be loved.

He yawned. He was so tired. It was so late. And Gerard hadn't heard Mikey come home. That was probably the best thing about his night. He was too tired. He didn't want to kill his brother. He didn't want him to die. He didn't want him to have to.

But he did. He yawned again and wiped at his eyes. He was too tired for this. Too tired to do this.

He just wanted to go to sleep. He just wanted it all to be over. He wanted Frank to fix it. He wanted to live in a perfect world, in a better world. He just wanted things to be okay again. He wished that everything could be okay, that he could turn back time and fix everything.

He wanted Frank to make everything better but he always made everything worse. He loved him. But that was the truth. He was a murderer. He was a killer. He didn't wan this to happen. He didn't want him to have to die.

He sighed and buried his face into the pillow. The darkness pillowed around him. He didn't want to have to do this. He didn't want to have to kill him. He loved him.

He loved his little brother. He just wanted him to be safe, to keep him safe.

His heart skipped a beat. He didn't deserve it. He wheezed into the pillow. His tears stained the fabric. There was nothing anymore. His little brother was going to die because of him.

He loved him so much. His brother deserved better.

He just wanted things to be normal. He wanted Frank. He wanted Frank to make him forget all the bad things he had done. He was sure that this was just karma for the time being. He didn't want to have to kill his brother.

But at least if he did, he wanted Frank to be there to help him through it. He wasn't sure that he would make it through this. But he would do it. He would do this for Frank.

Frank was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had to do this for him. He seemed to owe him. He wanted to do this. Because Frank would love him more. He was going to try his hardest to make him love him.

He just wanted to be loved. Oh God, this was going to be the worst thing he had ever done. He huffed a sigh in his pillow again, eyes running, nose running, mouth slobbering all over the pillow. He had to kill Mikey.

He was such a bad person. Frank was such a bad person. He would ruin his baby brother. He would kill his baby brother.

He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to have to do this. This was the worst. This was terrible. He was so bad. He was such a bad person.

He sobbed again, pushing his face into the pillow. This was what Frank did to him, this was how Frank wanted him to feel. He wanted him to hurt. He wanted him to die.

He would do this for Frank so he would never want to punish him again. So he would never have to hurt him again. He loved him. God, why did he love him?

Things kept turning to shit, getting worse and worse. He was sure that they would get better and then they turn to dust. He had to kill Mikey. He knew from the beginning that he had to. But it was still knocking him on his back. He lost all the wind with the thought of his brother loosing all his light.

He was going to have to kill his little brother. He was going to have to murder the one person who had always been there for him.

Where was he now? He hoped that he was getting far away and living a better life.

He didn't want to kill Mikey. But he was silly to think that he could let him live.

Because he couldn't let him live. He was a trampled little leaf in the snow. He was a flower, covered in icicles. He was already dying, Gerard just had to turn off the lights. Gerard had to take that last little bit from him so he wasn't suffering.

He was even smaller now when Gerard thought of him in past tense. When the words grew null he shrank down.

That was the problem, Mikey was too pure for the lot of them. For te bunch of murderers that he knew. He was too good for him, too good for Pete.

He wondered if he really was with Pete. Or if Pete and him were on their own ways. He wondered if Mikey already knew. He wondered if that was why he wasn't there.

His heart skipped a beat again and he turned over, wiping tears. If he knew, then he really would have to die. There was no room for sympathy if he was going to ruin his plans.

He was going to look for him when he awoke. He didn't want to now. He didn't want to face his brother. He didn't want to have to kill him so soon. He was going to give him his last few nights on Earth, whether that was with Pete or not. He just didn't want him to die yet. He would let him live in ignorance.

Then it all fit together, a little theory in his head.

He wondered, trying to click the pieces together, on why his brother had been avoiding him for so long. He wanted his suspicions to be false. But he was getting the feeling that they were true.

He had a sneaking suspicion that he had figured out his little secret. The reason Mikey had been with Pete, trapped in his room for a whole day, why Gerard had been avoided by his dear brother.

He knew that Gerard was a killer. He was already slipping through his fingers. He hadn't caught him in time. His brother must have laerned that he was a killer from Pete.

Blood boiled in his soul, in his veins. Pete told Mikey that he was a killer. Pete uncovered their secrets to his little boy toy.

Mikey must be shriveling right about now. He must have been dying with the fact that Gerard was a killer. He wondered how long he had known.

If he had found out, and if he found out from Pete, he had to die. At least this made it easier for him to kill him. This should be fun. He would punish Pete and slaughter his brother. They both had to die, now. This would be less of a martyr, now. This was now a means to an end again. This was going to keep his secret from coming out. 

His brother had to die. Because he had to have Frank.

He couldn't be letting the secret out. And Pete already had. So he had to kill him, punishment, security. Whatever.

Pete had uncovered their entire existence. He had jeopardized his plans. Mikey might be blabbing to Armani, to everyone. This could be getting out of hand.

He wasn't his brother if he knew anymore. He couldn't be. He couldn't let him. He had to kill him. He had to murder him. He was going to die now. He was impure. He had been tainted and there was no stopping the fact that he was aware now of what Gerard had done.

If Mikey knew he was going to have to get rid of him. Regardless, even. He had to kill him.

The stone sank in his chest, bringing his heart to his feet with them. His head swam. It all felt too real. He didn't want to have to make all these real decisions. He wanted Frank to do that for him.

He really did have to kill his brother. He had to kill him. There was no one else that he could ask to do it.

How could he have found out?

How could he have known about this?

Pete had to have told him. He was backstabbing him. He was doing this to get closer to Mikey. Was he really that petty? Did he want Mikey's love that much? 

He would get him, too. He would kill him, too. if he didn't do what he said.

He would wipe the planet of all their backstabbing purity. Who did Pete think he was? Ruining their plan like that? Ruining his plans like that?

Now he had to get Frank out of jail on his own. He had to kill his brother on his own. He could trust no one but himself and Lyn-z anymore.

He would have to get back at Pete. He would get back at Pete.

He would stab him in the back, too.

He had no right telling Mikey. Not his brother had to die, as well. He was too pure. Too, too pure. Too pure for his brother to try to keep safe. Because he couldn't anymore.

Mikey was his brother and his best friend. But he was still a baby, still so fragile. He should have tried harder to keep it a secret. He should have kept it all a secret. He didn't need him finding out.

Now he had to die. It was a mercy killing.

He was too pure. And now he had to die. They would all die to pay for what he had to do for his baby brother.

 

He could barely contain himself. He was trying to stay inside of his cell, complacent and small. He was trying to keep himself poker faced and level headed. But he was giddy. He was waiting for Gerard to come and get him. Any second could be the second that he saw him, that he kissed him. His lips seemed to pucker themselves in anticipation. His body molded against Gerard's ghost.

He missed him so much. He was forgetting the planes of his face even with the photos. He didn't want that to happen. He didn't want to forget him. He couldn't forget him. He loved him so much. He just wanted him, just wanted to hold him.

He was so excited to see his lover. it had been too long. His skin was still a perfect map of them. He stared at the scar that littered his hand. He just wanted to see Gerard again. God, he just wanted to see him again.

He laid in bed and put his hands over his stomach, meeting them together. He missed him so much. He missed his touch. He just wanted to lay next to him again. He would die to be able to touch him again. He would kill to feel him again.

He would even stop killing if Gerard wanted him to. He would stop killing to keep him with him. He just wanted him so badly. He just wanted to love him so badly. He was going mad with the need for touch. He just wanted him, just wanted him. He was so desperate.

He would give the world to Gerard. He knew that that was what he wanted and he just wanted to love him. He was the best thing, the only thing. He was so beautiful.

Frank would kill for him, die for him. He loved him so much. He loved him so much. He just wanted to be near him again, be next to him again.

He just wanted to be close to him. There was a hole in his heart. He was waiting for Gerard to fill it. 

He seemed to buzz with the fact that he was getting closer and closer to seeing him, everyday the day that was closing in on the fact. He was going to see him soon, and he was so excited. He was just so excited.

He could just see himself, carrying Gerard out of here in blood, loving him and holding him. They would murder the world together. And he was stupid to think that that wasn't what Gerard wanted.

He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to hold him and love him. And God, he just wanted to see him.

His soul ached. He was going to get him back. He was going to kill with him. He was going to hurt with him. They were going to ruin everything. They were going to hurt everything.

He just wanted to do what he loved with the person he loved. He just wanted to be with him.

He knew that he wanted him. That he wanted to be with him. He wanted to be with him, too. He knew that he could make Gerard happy. That he would be able to make Gerard happy. Oh so, happy. He could teach him how to kill better.

But there was the time before, when he was handing him over. When he knew it was the end of them, for the time being. He hadn't been sad. He hadn't been upset.

He just knew that Gerard should have been happy and that he was not making him happy. He just wanted him to be happy.

He promised himself that he would make him happy. That he would treat him nicely and do everything that he wanted to do. He just wanted to make him happy.

He was brought out of his thoughts abruptly by footsteps and a shadow over the already existing silhouette of the bars. He looked up at a woman, standing there with a stoic face down at his body.

"Visitor," a guard nodded at him, unlocking his door and putting him in cuffs to be walked to the area where he saw Pete.

He stood up abruptly, letting his hands drop to the side. He always looking forward to these days he had with Gerard. He loved talking to him, he was his best friend. He sprung forward at once. 

He knew that it was Pete. Pete was the only person that he let visit him. He had useful information and he was his best friend.

He also got information on Gerard, which was probably the best thing that he could have gotten. He loved to hear about him. It was good to know that he was actually real and not just in his head. 

He could not wait to see him. The last time he saw him was on the news for that interview. And while he looked amazing then, he would love to see him now. Pete would be able to give him information on how he was, when he would be there to see Frank again.

He could not wait to see him again, hold him again. He was the best thing that had ever happened to him and his heart seemed to squeeze every time he thought about Gerard, every time he thought about him not in his arms.

He smiled to himself and let himself be chained up, dutiful in all respects. He held out his wrists to be put in the shackles. He was excited to hear about all their exploits, not sad that he couldn't be there. He was just upset.

The woman had stopped looking surprised at his chivalry, the fact that he was so quiet and willing.

The woman was used to him being kind. All of them were, albeit a little bit surprised at the fact that he was so cordial within the first few days. Like he said before, he was used to it.

He was always full of surprises.

"Hello, Mr. Iero," she says with a soft smile. Her voice was soft, her eyes turning up to look at his, sweet and dark. It was nice to talk to someone that wasn't just afraid of him. 

Frank gives her his own closed mouth grin. He liked this one, she was smaller than the rest, nicer. He felt bad for her, she was so naive. But it was refreshing.

She was a little bit like Gerard when he had first met him, shy, simple. But now he was appreciative of those types of folks. He didn't mind her being too shy. That was one of the good things about her.

He smiled at her again as he was led out of his cell.

He walked with a quick gait to the area where Pete was, where he knew that he was. He was giddy to hear of his plans to get him out.

"Just thought I'd tell you that you're being put on trial within the next few weeks," she said, holding onto one of his arm so he didn't get away. Her grip was loose and although he found her foolish, it was nice to be trusted.

"Yeah?" he asked, eyebrow raised. Nobody told him.

"Yeah. Just thought I'd let you know," she said, taking him into the room where Pete was held.

He sat down across from Pete after getting the handcuffs off. "Thank you," he said to the guard. It was a brief little pause in his time. His eyes flicked back to Pete after the guard went to stand in her spot, against the far wall, looking towards them but not eavesdropping. This one never got any closer, that was another thing that he liked about her. She was so malleable. 

Pete didn't look too good. He looked like he was hurting. Had something happened to him? To Gerard? To Mikey? He was wondering what had gotten him this messed up?

He furrowed his eyebrow and he was going to ask but Pete beat him to the punch and just said it, voice sorrowful as he spoke, heartbroken and hurting. His voice was dark and broken sounding.

"Mikey doesn't love me anymore." His eyes were unfocused, nearing the edge of the glass where there was a common smudge. He looked so lost, so confused. Like this was true betrayal. Frank saw it coming. Even if Pete didn't.

Frank scrunched his face. "I'm sorry, man. At least it makes it less complicated." He shrugged. Of course, he really wasn't the one he should talk to about this. He was biased. He never liked Mikey to begin with. Gerard had to stop him from killing him. And he only wanted to kill him because he was dangerous to him and Gerard's plans. Even if he didn't really like him, it was nothing personal. He just had to keep Gerard safe.

Pete sighed. "I'm sure you're right. It just- It's so bad. I love him so much," he said. His voice seemed to crack, but he masked it jst in time for it to be nearly unrecognizable. 

Frank nodded. He got this at least. "Sometimes things don't work out. And that's not anybody's fault. It just happens," he said. He shrugged and looked to his friend who was still sorrowful.

Pete sighed again. "He looked okay with it. That was what killed me. That he was just completely okay with leaving me," he said. His head fell to the table. He was trying to not get too sad about it. But maybe he should let himself mope. Then he could do what he needed to do better in the coming days.

He could get Frank out of here with Gerard and he could run away from Mikey, forget Mikey. He didn't want to see him again. He didn't want to have to. He wanted to burn that bridge and never go over it again.

"Maybe he never loved you. Maybe he fell out of love with you a long time ago." Frank wasn't helping at all. But then again, he probably shouldn't go to him for advice. He tried to kill Gerard. He probably shouldn't be asking him for any advice or a shoulder to cry on.

Pete looked up at him, lolling his head on the table. He didn't speak. He just gave him a damp look He didn't want to deal with his pettiness.

"I don't care," he sighed again. He turned his head back to the table and stared at the scratches and grooves. He didn't want to look at him. 

Frank gave him a moment. The silence hid the sadness that Pete had felt. He let him feel his own sorrow. He knew what it was like to lose a lover. So he let him mourn. Till he couldn't hand it and he spoke.

"How's Gerard?" he asked. Frank was being cordial but he couldn't help but ask about his own lover.

Pete sighed, knowing that he couldn't have helped himself, and that he should just leave the Mikey talk alone. There was nothing for him to do about him now.

"He's fine. I think. Lord knows that he must be stressing about all of this. He got a new job, a few days ago. Something to pay the bills," he said. He shrugged and started peeling at the plastic of the table. He still looked melencholy, lips sinking into the fold of his skin.

"Yeah?" Frank asked, "Where?" Not like it mattered, he was going to save him soon. Gerard was going to release him from this hell and hold him again. He wanted to be held again.

"Bookstore," Pete shrugged. He was still distant. Frank knew that he was thinking about Mikey. Frank knew that he wouldn't be able to get his mind off of Mikey.

"Hey, don't sweat it, man. He didn't deserve you," he said. He knew that he was being selfish, getting him to talk about Gerard when he obviously needed a friend. He wished that he could put his hand on his shoulder, any sort of contact. He missed Gerard, but he missed the human feel even more. The simple touch of flesh, of skin.

He was going mad in here. But he shrugged it off for Pete. He would ignore it because his friend was hurting.

He spoke again to him, still melancholy. "No, he didn't. And I think he knew that. He's too good for me," he said. His head fell down to the table again. He was trying his hardest to not feel like a mope. But he couldn't get over the fact that Mikey was always going to run away from him. And that he would never keep him for longer than a few days.

He hadn't even really looked his way when he was finally gone. He had felt the feeling sink in like a rock. He was nothing to him anymore. Mikey walked away like he was just a pest.

Like he hated him. He didn't want Mikey to hate him. He was good. He was so good. He was pure. He was too good for Pete. Too good for anyone to love. He was the best thing and the worst thing that had ever happened to him. He was an accident.

He never expected it to end like this. He was waiting for it to explode in his face. Now it was just gentle lapping at his feet, the sea foaming at the mouth. There was nothing anymore. He was only ever a bandage. He was only ever there to plug the leak for a little while.

Now Mikey was past the need for him. He was past the need for everyone. He had become stronger than anyone could have imagined. He didn't need him anymore. He would never need him anymore.

Frank went quieter than he already was at his words, not even trying to counter to him. He didn't have anything to say to that. Pete didn't say anything either, he was thinking about Mikey. About his blank 'i love you' before he walked away. The fact that he was just the best thing to be alive. He was too good. Too good.

Pete knew that that would shut him up. They both knew that they weren't as pure as Mikey. They would never be as pure as him. That they should stop pretending and just leave it alone. He didn't have anything more to say on that matter. 

So they were silent for a few more moments, letting the time crawl past them, thinking about Mikey. About his pale skin and his bird bones and the fact that he was already flying away from Pete .He should have seen it coming.

He was pure.


	11. Torn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hi, hi. So these 10000+ chapters are going to keep up actually.

Gerard woke up in the morning with sweat running down his face, sticking his shirt to his back. He didn't want to live like this anymore.

A bad dream that he still had one foot in was trying to yank him back down into bed but he could not let it. He had to move and he had to move now. He had to get going, away from this.

Mikey was a time bomb and he had allowed himself a release from him for a little while but he had to go and kill him now. Before he did anything stupid.

And trust me, reader, Gerard knew that he was going to do something stupid. It was just a matter of time. He had done it before, betrayed Gerard. And he would do it again.

This time, though, it was going to be harder to get Frank out of prison. Because he was sure that he truly had no one besides himself.

He hadn't even thought of a plan, he would have to go in there guns blazing to get his boy toy out. He had Lyn-z. He wasn't too sure about Pete anymore.

He was going to have to kill him if he was the one who told Mikey that he was a killer. He would have to kill him if Mikey did something stupid. He was sure that Mikey was going to do something stupid.

He sighed and wiped his face. His brother was out there somewhere, suffering somewhere. He knew what he had to do. He knew what he had to make happen. 

He had to kill his own brother. Could the person he used to be, the person he once was, have ever imagined that this would be the fate that his brother was subjected to? He was subjected to.

He didn't want to kill his brother. God, he didn't want to kill his brother. But it was necessary for the master plan, the best thing that would happen to him. He was going to have to kill him because it was for the greater good of his selfish life.

That's what he was. He was selfish. He was a bad person. He was a bad person because he took innocent lives. He was a bad person because he made people suffer, and he would be glad to make hundreds more suffer. He would kill him so he could go on living his shameful life.

It was the only thing he could do. Frank needed him to do this. He was glad that he didn't know. And he was kind of glad that he was in prison. Because if he was out, if he knew that Mikey knew he would be less gentle about it.

Blood would spill if he was the killer. Gerard was going to have to do it as humanely as possible. Pills, strangle, something that was painless, quick, something he wouldn't even notice. Poison, cyanide.

He was going to kill his brother and he was going to do it better than Frank ever could. He just had to find him first.

His legs were jelly. He didn't want to have to find his brother and kill him. He just wanted him to be happy. He was so small, so fragile. He had to take care of him. 

But he told himself that he would do that through killing him. If he lived, and Gerard just got Frank out of jail, he would kill Mikey in a more graphic way than Gerard could ever think about. He shuddered to think of his brother, hurt and harmed. He would kill him. But he would make it so Mikey didn't know that he was dying while he did it. It was the least he could do for him.

It was his brother and he loved him. So he had to save him. He had to make sure that he was okay. And that meant murdering him. That meant killing him.

He shuddered at the thought again, a graphic image of his grave. He didn't want to have to do that. But he did. He did and that was just the truth. He had to do it for Frank, to save them. He had to do it to save them all.

He wouldn't be able to go to his funeral. He would be all the way to a different place, far away. He wondered how Mexico was this time of year.

He got out of bed and decided that he would have to go out and kill Mikey, before he did something stupid of course. Before he told everyone of Gerard's secret and made it not fun anymore.

He decided, as he was getting dressed, that he would dispose of Mikey and then rally up the troops to get Frank out of jail.

Getting rid of Mikey would take the whole day, planning would take another few. But if he caught his brother in time he could stop the mess and be on his way. He was going to have to lie quite a bit if he wanted to get out of this.

Mikey always had to spoil his fun. But, no matter, his brother was his brother and he would be a tattle tail till the end.

He dressed faster and started planning his execution as he flew out the door, barely even managing to put a coat on as he left.

 

Mikey was lying on Armani's couch. He hadn't told her. He just said that he couldn't stay in his house. She didn't ask any questions. She just let him lay there. He didn't sleep. He watched the clock through the night, just waiting for Gerard to get him. To come through the window or the door and slit his throat.

He would creep in through all the dark edges of the world and come and get him, choke him from behind when he was least expecting it. He would always be around to kill him. He would always be around to ruin him.

He grew more afraid as the darkness slipped past, as it shrank and fell into the early morning, blue light dying his body and making him as scared as the carpet seemed to be at getting singed a dying periwinkle. The morning was coming and with it would come the During the day there was nowhere to hide. Gerard could really come and find him. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to have to die.

Gerard was going to kill him and he wouldn't feel bad about it. He wouldn't feel bad because he thought that Mikey had to die. He wanted his brother to die. 

He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. 

It was now early morning, just reaching five in the morning, the clock ticking down to his certain death, he had never been in a situation where he was about to die and knew it. It was an odd feeling, the feeling that the entire world was coming down and no one else could sense it. The fire was starting to fade into the world, a gentle ombre, seeping through the horizon and dampening the grass.

The sunrise was a tender kiss on the shoulders of the horizon, a peach bruise turning into a light blue, twirling a deep kiss into the mouth of the world, swirling it's tongue around like the filthy animal it was. He would fight back the dawn till there was nothing left. He would kill it like Gerard was going to kill him. 

He didn't want to have the world wake up. He didn't want the world to start churning out productivity because that meant his brother would find him. His brother would kill him. Today was his last day on Earth, or it might as well be. There was the gentle beat of his heart, fainter, as if he was taking the time to think about them.

He was a coward, drop dead now, or be devoured by his brother, waiting in the wings of the morning. He hid in the shadows behind the trees and when he was walking he was just going to get him, he knew it. He knew that he was going to kill him. He was coming to kill him.

He shuddered into the blanket. He was still so cold, feet dipping into the vinyl of Armani's couch. This place was unfamiliar but it was the best he had. He couldn't go home. He could never go home again.

That thought hit him like a train and he felt like crying again. Except now there was no Pete to calm his fears. There was only the feeling of himself. Nothing was ever going to be the same. And that was no fault but Gerard and Frank's.

They were murderers. They were skilled killers and they wanted him dead.

He gulped from on the couch, terrified of the very prospect. He was in for a world of hurt because of what he knew. Why did he have to see Gerard with Pete? Why did he have to make the inference?

There was a tension in the air that was killing him. It hung in the balance like he was standing on a tightrope. There was nothing to keep him falling into the spikes that lie underneath him. 

He was going to be murdered by someone that he once had faith in. All his faith was Gerard's at one point in time. He was the only thing that kept him going. But now that was all gone. Gerard was a killer and Mikey was a victim.

Mikey was an ant under a magnifying glass. He was burning alive.

He was terrified. He just wanted to live. He just wanted to be able to live. He wanted to get away from this place. 

In a perfect world, he would be okay. He wouldn't have a homicidal brother bent on murdering everything. He wouldn't be waiting for his murderer to swoop in and kill him.

Yesterday, he wasn't too worried about it. But it was time now, he was turning into a nervous wreck now. He didn't want to tell Armani yet. He couldn't tell her. 

He didn't want to tell her because he was still stuck between wanting her to know and not wanting it to be going on in the first place. He didn't want her to know because he didn't want it to be true. And he wanted to give Gerard time to change his mind. He still had faith in his brother, believe it or not. He still thought that he could be a good person, see the error of his ways.

There was a gnawing in the middle of his chest. He had to just give him time. He knew that he was a good person, that he could be a good person. He just needed to make him see.

But he was too afraid to confront him. All his doubts festered in his heart. He was still in denial, reader. 

Gerard wasn't going to kill him, even though he was. He wasn't a bad person, even though he was. He was just misguided, and we will allow our poor Mikey to have that. But he is wrong on the first two fronts. But he did not know that. The poor soul.

He didn't want it to exist. He didn't want this to be true. He was terrified of all of this. So scared. So scared. He just wanted his brother to be his brother again. He just wanted to be friends again, like they were when they were children.

No, Mikey was afraid of his brother. Now nothing was ever going to be the same. Even if he fixed everything, there would still be the tension of his brother not being his brother.

He was looking out the window, knowing that today could be his last. He didn't want Armani to wake up. When Armani woke up the world woke up. He didn't want to be confronted with the fact that this was his last day on Earth.

He didn't want her to ask him questions and he didn't want her to leave him alone. And he didn't want to go home. He didn't want anything to happen. He didn't want to be anything.

He was terrified of this. He was so scared, not wanting to move but not wanting to stay. He was stuck in the same spot all the time. He was stuck in the same box, unable to move, unable to make up his mind. He needed to make up his mind, but there was too much. Everything was too much for him to handle.

He sighed and turned over, facing the vinyl blue of her couch. Time ticked by and he could feel it in the beat of his heart, pumping down time till it was time for him to go. Till it was time for him to die.

He wasn't sure if he should just lay down and take it. He didn't know if he should just let Gerard kill him. If it would even matter if he lived.

No one would mind, no one would care. There was nothing for him to live for but he was still terrified of dying. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die.

He wiped a tear away. He was going to die. He was going to be killed. 

He didn't want to go. He didn't want to have to. Gerard was going to kill him. And that made it all the more painful.

But maybe, there was an inkling of foolish hope gurgling in his stomach. Maybe he wouldn't have to die by his hand. Maybe he could show him the error of his ways, of Frank's ways.

Oh, how good that idea would be. He could go to his brother and he could fix him right up and they could run away. That would be something spectacular, wouldn't it.

He sighed. He knew that that was not going to happen. That he was going to have to tell Armani the truth about Gerard, even if it killed the both of them in the process. 

It was going to hurt to confess, to say. He wouldn't be able to stop Pete from being apart of it. He would make another enemy. He already had so many, so unwittingly. He was going to take care of himself, to watch out for himself, till it was his time to die.

Armani couldn't help, not yet. He was going to wait till the last minute if he got to tell her at all.

He buried his head, wrapping the pitiful blanket around himself. He was cold even though he was covered. His bones felt like they were covered in frost. He was going to die today. 

That was odd thought. He would meet death. He would kiss it and caress it in ways he never had before. They would dance by the end of the evening. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the last day of his life.

He didn't mind the fact that he might die-that he was going to die. He was trying to fit it into his head. He was doing pretty well at cramming it all in there, fitting it around in his mind till it fit comfortably. Gerard was going to kill him. That was the kicker.

It was the fact that it was his brother. His best friend, his longest friend. He was going to murder him. He was going to go back on every promise he had ever made. 

His brother was meant to protect him, he was meant to help him. He was his big brother, for crying out loud. And now he was going to murder him. He was going to kill his own brother in cold blood.

Mikey tried not to think about himself, strewn across a crime scene, blood guts and everything out for the world to see. He was going to die. He just hoped that it would be peaceful, something that he could look back on in the afterlife and not throw up at the sight of. He was going to try to die in dignity.

There was a gnawing at his stomach, he couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten but it was not the fact that his stomach was screaming for nourishment. It was the fact that he had yet to tell Armani and he had a small time frame of life left. If this was his last day, wouldn't he do the best thing for everyone in the world and tell Armani of Frank and Gerard.

She needed to know, they were going to kill more and Mikey was the only one with their secret.

He fidgeted awkwardly. There was nothing keeping him from telling Armani, Gerard was going to kill him anyway.

But Maybe, reader, Mikey liked the thing that Gerard could change. That he could renounce his ways at the drop of a dime and fall back in love with the world again. Wouldn't that be nice.

Mikey wanted to think that this would happen. And that they could run away and they could be good again, pure again.

He kew that it was a fantasy but it was a fantasy he would continue to have. He wanted his brother and he wanted him whole.

He didn't want the killer that he had become. He didn't want his brother, a murderer. He wanted the one that he used to know, the one that was nice to him and loved him and never kept secrets from him.

He didn't know the one that Frank had made. He didn't know the one that he had molded to his image.

This was not his brother. This was Frank's slave. He would just make Gerard see that. See that he was not supposed to be fine with this, that Mikey was not fine with this. He just wanted his brother to know that he was still truly loved and there could be some kind of retribution for him.

Mikey would make sure of it. It was Gerard and he would not give up on him.

The other half of his body was screaming in fear, torn in the middle like a grilled cheese sandwich. He was scared of his older brother, what he could do.

Those murders had been brutal and he was sure since Gerard really had a motive for this one, they would be worse. He didn't want to die.

He just wanted to be loved. He just wanted to be happy. He just wanted to be free. God, he just wanted to be free.

There was nothing that tied him down anymore, he could leave if he wanted to, get the hell out of this place and start new. But he found himself craving the extra weight to his ankle. There was nothing like knowing that you weren't going to blow away in the wind.

He tried to think on it all, the fact that two parts of him were a total 180 to each other. There was nothing but opposition on both sides.

Save your brother, kill yourself. Save yourself, doom your brother. There was this clash between them that the little sliver of Mikey in the middle that was untouched just wanted to end. There was nothing for him to do now. He would let his feelings and fate play out what was going to happen to him. He was terrified, he was never good at the whole destiny thing as we see.

He looked to the clock again and accepted that the wheels had to start turning sometime, that he had to die sometime and that sometime was rapidly approaching him. He was so scared, five thirty turned into six.

And everything rotted with the full sunrise, yellowing and dying under the harsh uv rays. Even the dust quivered in the shafts of light. Mikey did not want anything more to happen. Morning could wait, just for a little while.

But morning soon came and Mikey had been greeted by Armani, coming into the living room with her most sympathetic look. "Hey, Mikey. You doing alright?" she asked. She sat on the couch, nestled in the crook of his legs. She sat a hand on his hip. Mikey was remembering his mom, taking care of him when he was sick and upset. But this was nothing like that, there was no familiarity anymore. There was only the pity of a friend who had no idea what was really going on. He felt bad for her, she was doing her best to help him and he was lying to her, withholding information from her. 

He couldn't tell her, not yet. Gerard was soon to be good. He would make his brother good again. He promised himself that he would do this for him. He had to. Because his brother was his brother and he was his best friend. He had to do this because Gerard had always been there for him, even if he wanted to kill him now.

He would forget that. That was not him, that was Frank talking through him, through his brother. He needed to clear his name, to prove that it was all Frank and that Gerard was innocent. He was innocent, Mikey knew it.

But there was still the part of him that knew. That knew, in the core of him. It was the same one that was afraid of the sunlight and the sounds of the earth rustling awake. He was going to die today. He was going to die and he was selfish.

Gerard was going to get away because Mikey couldn't tell Armani, couldn't bring himself to betray his brother. He was a killer. But he couldn't let it go that they were brothers. That they were best friends, even now. Even if Gerard didn't feel like they were. And Mikey knew that he thought they weren't. He was going to kill him for Christ's sake. They were enemies.

But Frank was still going to let him get away. He was going to let him run away because he loved his brother, because he cared about him more than he did himself, more than anyone.

In some sick way it was just because he didn't want to lose him. He felt when he told Armani that made it real, made it something that he could not escape anymore.

He sighed and looked to her, his torso twisting. He couldn't stand her gaze so he looked down at the blanket. He sighed again. "I don't want to go home. I don't want to go home, Armani. Please don't make me," he said with a pitiful voice. His cheeks were hot. He didn't feel like an adult. He felt like a child, reaching out for help. Armani was still there to give it to him.

He was a child, hiding from the problems that he had. He wouldn't tell Armani what they were but she knew. She knew, in a little part of herself, that something was very wrong with Mikey and Gerard.

Why would he be here if there wasn't anything wrong? She wanted to know so she could keep them safe, keep him safe. She had grown quite attached to the younger man, trying her best to take care of him. He was so fragile all of the time it was hard not to care about him, he just gave off that doeish innocence that was rarely ever found in an adult. He was a good person and a good fried and she would do her best to take care of him.

But she promised herself that she would not pry. He looked like he was on the brink of crying as the seconds ticked by. She didn't want to have to comfort him more. He had been through enough and didn't need anybody poking at the wound. She would leave it be, but not for much longer.

She knew that this probably had to do with Gerard. And so did she. She would have to ask him if this was something to do with Frank because that was quickly becoming her expertise as well as his. She would try to take care of him for the day, let him hang out in her office, chill around and not have to go home. She didn't want him to have to. He looked terrified of going back to his own apartment.

Maybe it was a phase of fear that Frank would get him again. She could tell that he was more on edge with the New Jay running about. She felt terrible that he had to relive this all again with a new threat. It was worse since they didn't know who the hell it was. And the fact that the scenes were much more graphic compared to the tame that was the Frank.

He had killed a lot but he had killed in a better way. It was almost always strangling, and if it was anything to do with a knife it was something like slitting the throat only. This was fancy knife work on the chest, leaving the corpse defiled. She loathed whoever was doing this. She would catch them, she would catch them and she would put them in prison, for Mikey and Gerard.

"You don't have to, Mikey. Don't worry about it. You can come with me to the station, Mikey," she said. She pet his hip and looked at him with sadness in her eyes. No, pity. She pitied Mikey. 

He was too small to be going through this. She wanted to keep him safe but there were just things that she couldn't do unless he told her.

There was something wrong with him, something wrong with Gerard. She would get to the bottom of it by the end of the day. It was her job to save people, and she wanted to save Mikey.

But he was not telling her anything. He couldn't. And Armani seemed to know that, and she would give him time to deal with whatever he was trying to get through.

He just looked silently onto her, eyes dewy and sad. He looked away after a moment, unable to stand staring at her when she was looking at him with a rotten tooth candied apple eye that just screamed that he was smaller than her, in a lot more trouble than her.

He didn't want pity. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted his heart to stop racing and his body to stop hurting. He didn't want to have to hide behind Armani. But he would gladly do it. He didn't want to have to, but the lows he sunk to in order to save his life, to save his brother's.

He had a sneaking suspicion that if Gerard killed him that would be the end of the brother he once knew. At least now he was there to monitor him, the Gerard that Mikey knew wouldn't kill at all, but considering the circumstances he would just take a Gerard that didn't kill family. He sighed, eyes turned to look through Armani. He didn't want to see her pity. He didn't want to see what she was looking at him like because he knew that it was bad, that he was something smaller than his friend. He was always something smaller than anyone. He was the innocent one, the kid brother. He was always the one that people were protecting.

He nodded at her. "Okay, Armani. Sorry for taking up all your time," he sighed, sitting up. He was truly sorry for bumming on her couch when he knew that he had a house that he could go to if he dared. He was sorry for not telling her about Gerard when it was her job and she needed to know about these kinds of things. He felt bad for everything he had done. He was going to spend his last day on Earth apologizing to someone.

What a comforting thought, he thought bitterly. 

There was no one there to love him anymore. There was no one there but people who pitied him or wanted to kill him. His last day on Earth would most likely be his most lonely. He wanted to cry at that thought, at the fact that he was truly a nobody in the long run. He wasn't going to be anybody. 

At least Gerard was a somebody, Gerard was a something even if it was a murderer, a monster. 

Again, Mikey wanted someone to love him. He felt the hole in his heart that was burning through him.

Armani sensed that he was sensitive, that he was awaiting a certain kind of sadness to drown him again, so she distracted him with her plan for the day.

"Come on, get up and I'll take you in a few. Let me get ready. You wanna go back to your place and get some clothes?" she asked. She stood and turned to watch him for his answer.

He shook his head, frantic and terrified. He didn't want to go anywhere where Gerard might be. He didn't want to risk going near his brother. He was terrified of him, terrified of what that he would do. What he could do.

He didn't want to hear about him, talk about him. 

She sighed. "Why don't you want to go home, Mikey?" she asked him with a forlorn voice. She was going to pry, at least a little bit.

She had to know what was wrong, what was going on with him. She wanted to help him, help Gerard. It was her job. She needed to know what was going on. 

He looked so scared, so terrified of his own apartment. She didn't know what went on there, but she had to know. She had to know if something was wrong.

His lips were sealed, his heart seemed to beat in his ears. She was onto what Gerard was. She was going to take him away before Mikey could make him better. He just wanted to make him better.

He knew that he was going to die, but he would rather that than give up on Gerard. He was still his brother and he knew that he was in there somewhere, that he could love and that he would make him love.

He withered under her gaze, falling shorter and shorter, trying to not make it seem like he was scared of her, scared of her knowing. She couldn't know. He was just trying to save Gerard.

He had done bad things and Mikey was not going to talk to him till he gained the courage because he knew he would die, but his brother was still his brother and he loved him and wanted to save him. Mikey was not going to let him go. He was still Gerard. Even if he was barely his brother anymore.

He sighed and looked away from her eyes, down at the couch. She was staring into his very soul, stripping down the layers that were his skin down to where the secrets about Gerard lied inside of him. She was trying to weasel her way inside of his rib cage to the deepest part of his being. He would not let her in, for the love of God don't let her in. He pleaded with himself to keep his lips shut. He knew that he could end it if he blabbed to Armani.

But he wasn't sure he wanted to yet. If he ended it that was the end of Gerard and he was so scared of truly being alone. He didn't want to face it alone. He didn't want to have to run away with nobody waiting for him to call when he got settled. He didn't think he could handle it.

He always had Gerard. He always had his brother. Now he had nothing except for Armani's stare into him, trying to get to Gerard.

Her eyes were piercing. He didn't want to tell her. He didn't want to have to. He just wanted it to be over. He just wanted to get this over. But he was petrified. Every time he thought of telling her his throat closed up. Gerard would murder him, Gerard would hurt him if he told anyone.

Gerard was going to kill him. He knew that he was. But he wasn't too sure he was so scared of dying anymore. If he was ever scared of dying at all or if he was just scared of the fact that he would be in the dark, all alone.

He didn't know what came with death but he did know that it did not entail the love that he so craved.

He would find out and he would kill him. He shivered. Armani took that as his only, unworded answer. She accepted it as it was, looking at him still somewhat accusing him of his deeper secret. He was glad that that was as far as it went and that she wasn't trying to get anything more out of him. He couldn't have held it in if she wanted more from him.

"You don't have to protect anyone, Mikey." Her voice was sharp, but soft at the same time, words a double edged blade.She wasn't accusing him of anything, just reminding him of what he could do. She was right.

He didn't have to protect anyone. But he was going to till the bitter end because he couldn't bare the thought of not having anyone at all. Gerard was the best thing he had. The only thing he had now. Even if he was a murderer, a cold blooded killer that would take Mikey as his victim he would give himself to his brother.

He was much more scared of being alone than he was of dying, if he was being honest.

With that she was gone, cold words hanging in his skull. He did have to protect him because he was trying to protect himself. He gulped and got up to make coffee. 

It was the least he could do for staying in her house.

They were off when she came out, fully dressed with her gun and her badge. Mikey was still in his clothes from when he had arrived at her house, unable and unwilling to go back to his own place to get anymore.

 

Armani took Mikey to her work space as promised. She let him sit in her chair as she moved about, going about her duties as a detective. She would come in on the occassion, put a file away, use the phone, stare at a pin board of The Jay. Gerard was on there, on a board of suspects. 

She would sigh and put her hands on her hips when she looked at the board. Then she would look at Mikey, a sneaking little glance of sorrow and she would walk away from it, face read and sorry for Mikey's loss. 

How could it be a loss if Gerard was still there? he wondered. He came to the conclusion, staring at the beige wall and not speaking, that it was truly a loss. Because Gerard was not his brother anymore. He was someone else. He was somebody's elses. He was Frank's and he would kill for Frank.

He shivered into his chair and flicked his eyes closed. If he thought of something better he could forget the cold hard beating of his heart, deep and resonant in his chest.

He could imagine Gerard just walking into her, saying hello to Armani and shooting Mikey dead. It wasn't a pleasant thought. 

He would look to the door fearfully every time Armani entered. He was sure that she noticed, but she did not say anything about it.

His bones were hot and creaking in his body as he thought of his last day on Earth. There was nothing for him anymore. He was staring at a wall for God's sake. He was terrified of dying because he had never lived.

He gulped once, when Armani was out of the room. He was terrified of her coming in and even more scared of her going. But she had work to do so he stayed out of her way, awaiting his death.

He kept quiet, he didn't want to say anything. He didn't want to say anything. He was afraid it would all spill if he did. He couldn't risk that. Gerard was going to kill him but he was not a snitch anymore. He was going to die. He was going to be a martyr.

He didn't want to speak anyway, Gerard was still good. He knew that Gerard could still be good, if he wanted to be. He wanted to make him good, help him be good. He gulped again, taking a deep throat.

One shot to the head and he would be dead. In seconds Gerard could burst in and end his life. He could feel himself quiver, brain trembling and pounding against his head to get the fuck out of there. He didn't want to die. 

He was close to tears, close to telling Armani what Gerard was. Armani would keep him safe. But he couldn't do that to Gerard.

Gerard would kill him if he did. He was terrified of his brother and terrified of being without him. He was stuck in this weird little force field of not being able to do the right thing.

He could tell Armani and save lives or he could be selfish and let himself die by the hand of Gerard. He had the power to stop this, the power to make it all end. He wanted to make it all end.

He sighed and put his head in his hands, there was nothing he could do anymore.

He was brooding on this as he sat in her chair, engulfed in the warmth of the office. The bricks were the color of school walls, etching stories into the chipped beige paint. Her office was as homey as a government building could get.  It had the strange sense of her tapped into it, making it something more than the one windowed room it was.

She was moving about, in and out of the office without a word. She would look at him on the occasion, worried eyes trailing to his catatonic body. He wasn't moving, rarely blinking, legs planet on the ground and eyes rooted to the wall opposite him. He was stationary, eyes only flicking around to look at her, to pity himself.

She pitied him, too. He looked so worn out, so tired. Like he hadn't slept at all. She knew that he hadn't. He was too wired to sleep, too scared of whatever it was that was residing in his home. She wanted to help him. But he was not really accepting it at the moment.

She knew that he was closing in on himself, unable to take the stress of this new Jay. Maybe she would get Lyn-z to talk to him. Maybe she would get Lyn-z to shrink him a bit, get something out of him like she had Gerard.

They were brothers, maybe they would respond in the same way.

She decided that she would send Mikey her way when she had the time and Mikey had the mind for it.

He had barely spoken a word all day, the car ride was silent, showing him around was silent. Everything was silent, even his shoes didn't resonate as loud as they should. It was like talking to a ghost. It was like he had become a ghost, fading away terrified of everything.

She left with another glance at his sad body, staring at the wall with eyes sparkling with new tears. He was a shell of the person she knew, the person she had seen in the past few days. 

She was terrified for him, because he was wasting away. He was fading away and Armani didn't know how to stop it because he would not tell her.

Another woman came in after Armani had been gone for a few minutes, head twisting with the weight of her pigtails, pulling her head to the side as she stared at Mikey through the doorway. Her smile was wide at him, bright and sharp. She reminded him of a nicer Gerard. A Gerard from a past time. "Is Armani in?" she asked. Her voice felt like oak, bright yet dark, chipper yet more ringing than the average voice.

Mikey found himself drawn to her, as well as scared as everyone who was not Armani. It made for an interesting mix.

He was not going to look at her, he was too panic stricken for that. But he would be interested in her, maybe even inquire about her to Armani when she came back in her office.

"Went down the hall to copy some papers," he only moved to meet her eyes when he said this, head tilting to fit the angle of where she was from the doorway, slow and solemn.

Her smile faltered at his eyes, she could tell that he had been through some shit. "Are you Gerard's brother?" she asked, pointing a finger at him. She was smoldering under his gaze. It was like he knew what was going on about Gerard, about her blood lust.

He couldn't, she was just being paranoid. Paranoid before the first kill, this was not a good sign. Gerard would not be proud of her if he knew how she was feeling.

She had a sense of dread after he left her car, like maybe he was playing her, like she had read the entire thing wrong. She almost didn't want to go to work for the fact that Gerard knew that she wanted to kill.

She was terrified that he had told Armani, now she was just scared that he had told his brother. She wasn't sure what his name was, or if Gerard had told them. But he looked like he already knew her.

She hid her quivering fear with another smile and some conversation. She was good at pretending. That was what was going to make her as good a killer as Gerard. She was good at making people think that she was on their side.

She didn't know if she was on Mikey's yet or if they were enemies. If he was Gerard's brother than she wasn't sure because she knew that Gerard wasn't sure.

This was all confusing, but if she just just didn't say anything without Mikey saying anything first then she would be in the clear and all would be okay. She was not in trouble, nobody knew. 

She calmed herself down while waiting for his response. He was slow on reply, tilting his head in confusion.

He furrowed his brow and hid a shiver. Everyone seemed to be able to see through him now, even this complete stranger. Was he that easy to read? 

"Yes. Why? How did you know?" he asked. Gerard's name was still invading his life. He was sure that he would meet someone with his name, his voice, even after he left. He would leave, he had to. But he would always follow. He knew that he would. Gerard would always be right on his heels, right out of his fingertips. His brother was always one step ahead and one step behind. He was all around him. He could never be free. And a part of him knew that he never wanted to be.

"Relax," she recommends where his words tumbled over themselves and out to her. She proceeds with her findings. "He's a lot like you." Her smile is small as the door shuts and he presumes she goes to find Armani.

Then she is gone, off to find Armani down copying papers and leave him pondering on those words. The face value of the words weren't anything to write home about. But he was sure that she didn't just mean the face value. So what the fuck was she talking about?

She couldn't know what was going on. She couldn't know who he was or who Gerard really was. Gerard had to have lied to the police because if he hadn't then he wouldn't have gotten off scott free. 

She couldn't know that Gerard kills. And she couldn't be insinuating that he does, as well. That was too much of a stretch. This was all so weird. It was like everyone knew that Gerard was a killer before the most important people did. Armani had no idea, he had no idea. But he was sure that she did.

He wondered what that one really did. He was sure that Armani had introduced her as Lyn-z their psychologist. He wasn't too sure, he wasn't paying attention when she was giving him the tour. He was mainly just humoring her, letting her seem like she was giving him something to do.

He knew that she felt bad for him. Everyone did now. They felt bad for Gerard, too. But Gerard really deserved their pity.

He was the one who was misguided. He was the one who was being used, manipulated, by Frank. He was killing for someone he didn't even know, he surely didn't love.

Frank couldn't love him because he had tried to kill him. 

He remembered the tears on his face, the tears that he now knew did not come from being glad to see his brother, but the ones that were sad to see Frank go.

How could he be so stupid? How could he let himself be so stupid?

He wanted to take care of Gerard. He knew Gerard. But did he really?

He didn't know that he killed. That he had killed. He didn't know anything about his times with Frank at all. He just knew what he had infered which was something completely wrong.

He felt icky. Because there was nothing about it anymore that could aide him. His brother was only his brother from before. He didn't even know the Gerard who killed because he didn't know what he had done in entirety. 

He was a killer, he had killed and he had liked it, he knew that much and that was not all of it, not even close. 

His skin stuck to him. His brother was somebody different, somebody else who was much more secretive than Mikey initially thought.

Mikey was just on edge, raw exposed, chattering and chaffing his bones together. He was rough edges and everything was getting caught on him. He didn't want to think about it. But he was thinking about it. And he was overthinking about it. He was spending hours of time fitting together everything in his head, going over the facts that he had, the glaring obvious things that went on when he turned his cheek. He was met with the occupation of his brother through all of his thinking. With it being exceptionally apparent that he was a murderer.

Everything was right, the holes in the plot, the look in his eyes. He was a killer and he had always been on the brink of finding him out. But he didn't break through his facade until now. Because he had been in denial of it.

Bob had told him that he was a killer and Bob had been right. How could he be so stupid?

He hadn't seen through the lace till now because the designs were so pretty. He now knew that it was a whore's fabric.

Gerard was a bad person. He was a bad person but Mikey wanted to fix him. He wanted to help him. He needed to help him. He was his brother. He was never going to give up on him.

He was a killer. His brother was a killer and he knew now. He remembered everything that he had done now. It was all so clear. It was all so clear. Everything was continuing to fall into place.

But he couldn't help but feel that even though Gerard was a killer, it was not his fault. He had killed for a misguided love. He didn't really love Frank and Frank did not really love him. It was fake, a facade. There was nothing between them but hot, sticky, running blood, coming to drown them.

They were going to drown because of this.

He sighed and looked down at the desk, the first sort of movement he had ever done today besides putting his head in his hands and feeling terrible for himself. There was nothing he could do about this, said the desolate side of him. But the hopeful side was still, well, hopeful.

Gerard was a murderer and he wanted him dead. He wanted to kill him and he wanted to hurt him. He wanted to hurt everybody.

He wasn't his brother anymore. He didn't know him anymore. Anyone who took a life was outside the realm of someone who hadn't. He was a fucking killer. He wasn't his friend, his brother, lifelong companion. He was a murderer. He had taken a life, more than one even. He knew what it was like to play god.

Mikey did not know and he could not compete with his brother on that one. He had already been giving over to Frank when he wanted to start killing. The terrifying thing was that Mikey couldn't pinpoint when he was first inclined to murder. Whether it was when they were children or when he was exposed to Frank, there was nothing to tell him of his brother's homicidal tendencies.

He was scared of his brother. He didn't know him anymore. He was a stranger that he shared a house with. And even that was something that he was resisting.

And soon he wouldn't even do that. He would leave his brother completely. And they would be nothing but unfortunate friends, people that met by accident.

He shivered and sunk into the chair.

Armani came in the room, staring at him again. "At least you moved," she mumbled to herself, sneaking a look at his new position of utter hopelessness. Her small smile was watered down, sudesy and stripped of any real happiness.

He didn't speak. He didn't look up. He had so much time to think he just had to think some more. There was too much that he had to wrap his head around. There was just too much that he didn't want to have to deal with.

He sighed. He looked up at her. He licked his lips before speaking, buying time. He just had to speak. If he didn't speak he would scream. He didn't want to scream. He didn't want to talk. He had to let it out, somehow, some time.

He had to get it out of him or he would die. God, he didn't want to die.

Gerard wouldn't be the one to kill him it would be himself. He didn't want to die. Oh, God he didn't want to die.

He gulped, "Armani, I gotta get out of here," he said, shoving his head into his hands. His brother was a killer, a murderer. And he was coming for Mikey.

He was going to get Mikey.

He gulped again and the fear started to bubble, shimmering around him in a deadly way. It was going to suffocate him. Did Armani not see? Did anyone not here him silently crying?

He didn't want to die. But he couldn't speak. If he spoke he would die. And if he didn't there was a greater chance every second that he would be  murdered by his own brother.

He didn't want to die. God, he didn't want to die. He just didn't want to speak.

Armani came to his side, dropping the manila folder she was handling, putting away in her cabinet. She rushed to him, eyes wide and dark in concern. She held his face, pulling it out of the suction of his fingers. "Mikey,  tell me what's wrong. Mikey, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong, Mikey, baby," she spoke in a soft voice.

But he couldn't. He couldn't speak, he was too afraid. He was too scared to tell her what had went on, the entirety of the story being something so fucked, something that he could not utter to anyone or anything. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die.

Gerard would surely kill him. And that was why the words got stuck in his throat, giving him a taste of suffocation, something that Gerard would do to him if he spilled what his brother had done. He didn't want to speak about it. He didn't want to talk about it. It was simply impossible.

"Armani, I can't. I can't. He'll kill me," he said, clutching at his throat and looking around frantically. That was already, too much.

He was his brother. Gerard was his brother. He couldn't let them spill. He would kill him. And there was still the sense of loyalty. He didn't want him to get in trouble. But he didn't want him to come and kill him.

There was the dilemma that he seemed to have, caught between hoping that his brother would turn himself around or telling Armani because he really might die. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to fuck this up. He wanted to live. But Gerard had to have another chance.

So he held out on telling Armani. She didn't need to know yet. She didn't need to know what Gerard was doing.

Soon, she would. If he couldn't get Gerard to fix himself. He would just talk to his brother. He would talk to him, that was it.

Armani was still looking at him with worry in her eyes, waiting for him to tell her who was going to kill him. "I gotta go, Armani. I have to leave here, Armani. I gotta go," he breathed, heavy. He was going to talk to Gerard. He was going to face his fears.

His brother shouldn't be one of them. He wished that he had Pete by his side for this. but he would do it alone if he had to. He would do it alone because his brother had to be saved.

There was that new seed of denial. His brother wasn't really a killer. He was just a man making mistakes for love. 

He had been kidnapped by Frank and now he was delusional, thinking that he loved him. That was it. And the poor boy was killing for him. 

Yeah, that was what he told himself. Gerard wasn't the perpetrator. Frank was, controlling his brother from his cell. He was a mastermind, of course he was.

He walked faster out of the building and closer to home, closer to Gerard.

The blood was singing in his veins. He could prove his innocence. He could make sure that he was okay. And he could take him away from this life, from this place. He would be the one to save his brother. Because he loved him and he wanted to take care of him, the best he could. He was going to take care of him.

What were brothers for, anyway?

He walked faster, brushing past people as they passed. He was going to get to his brother. He had to get to him quickly. All of his past fears were gone. His house was no longer a graveyard, the corpses were no longer clues. They were a cry for help. Gerard needed his help.

He was going to get to his brother even if it killed him, even if Gerard killed him. He had to prove to the both of them that Gerard was not a bad person, merely someone who was misguided. That was it, his brother was just misguided. He wasn't insane. He wasn't a bad person.

He was crazy. Crazy because of Frank. Crazy because he had fallen in love with someone who would only ever love killing. Frank was a murderer. He didn't love Gerard. Gerard just thought he did.

He walked faster, nearly running to get to his brother now, he didn't want to miss his chance to get to him. He wasn't a killer. He wasn't a killer.

His heart soared and he forgot all about the sunrise and the anger that the daylight brought. His brother was not angry. He was not upset with him. He was just scared and broken and sad. And he needed to be fixed.

He wouldn't hurt Mikey because they were brothers. Because they were friends. He wasn't a bad person. He wasn't a bad person.

He took a deep breath, the cold meeting it with a kiss and turning it white. He would make Gerard pure again. Gerard would never kill again. He wasn't bad. No, he wasn't bad. He was just afraid of losing Frank.

Mikey would make it easier to let go of his lover. He would make him see that he was a monster, that he was wrong. He had seduced his brother before.

Now, it was his turn to get his brother back. He couldn't believe that he was ready to give up on him, that he had already given up on him. They were family for Christ's sake. He was his longest friend.

He was sure that Gerard would never kill him. He was his brother. They were friends.

The building awaited him, looming tall and familiar. He was going to get to his brother on their floor and he was going to tell him that he was wrong, that he wasn't a killer and that he was just afraid, like Mikey once was. He was just afraid.

They were all just so afraid.

He opened the door after glancing at his window. He wouldn't go in there. He would just look for Gerard. He had to talk to Gerard. There was nothing there for him anymore. His brother was his brother and even if he fixed him, made him see his ways, he would have to leave. This place held nothing for him anymore but pain. He had to get away.

He would get away. 

Everyone had to do it at some point, for some reason. They were all writhing around, coming back in a circle. Not him, he would end it, cut it, let himself live and let go. He would free himself, free Gerard from the bad people who were lying in the wait. Pete, Frank all the murderers and crime addled humans.

They would leave them all and they would be pure again. All would be good again.

Mikey was going to make sure of it.

He waved to their landlord, a sweet little lady who he had not really seen in a long time. Everything about his life seemed to have broken apart after Gerard left and it was revealed that Frank was the killer. Now it was all coming back together, friends he hadn't seen in weeks said hello, people he hadn't heard from in a while called. Everything was starting to get back into place. The danger was over and they were all together.

His feet carried him up the stairs, making their way to his apartment. Gerard was going to love him again. Gerard was going to stop killing and they were going to move. They were going to start new. As brothers again. Gerard would be pure again,as pure as Mikey was. They were going to be pure again. They were going to be good again because Mikey knew that his brother wasn't bad. He was just confused about it all. 

That was not his fault. Mikey just wanted him to see that it was a fault, though.


	12. Martyr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh i wrote like fucking 7000 words in like 2 hours i think i typed so fast i might have finger abs. Also this may be absolutely everywhere because i am so tired apologies.

Running into the apartment, we see Mikey, all inhibitions gone. He was trying to help his brother, he wouldn't be hung up on his fear. He needed to get to him, to make sure that he would be alright. He was his brother for Christ’s sake. He had to make sure that he was alright. He had to make him alright.

This was the best thing that he could do for Gerard. He was just confused, not knowing whether or not he wanted to really kill or if he was just blinded by love. He wanted to bring his brother back. He knew that he was better than this, that he was better than what Frank was trying to turn him into.

He loved his brother, he loved his brother and he wanted him to be safe, he wanted to make sure that he was okay.

Frank was a killer. Not Gerard. Frank was the mastermind behind all of this. He was a killer, not Gerard. Gerard was a victim like the rest of them. Except he was slower in the dying.  
He was terrified of what would happen to him. Was Frank going to kill him when he got what he wanted out of him? Was he going to try to make him kill some more? Would he hurt him when they ran away again?

He wanted to keep Gerard safe. He should have told Armani about what was happening, what he was fearing. Even if he was just trying to keep him safe by telling her a bullshit story about how he was afraid for Gerard’s safety.

She would have fixed this, would have made it better for Gerard and him. But it was to late for that. He was here and he was going to keep his brother safe all on his own.

He was his brother and he deserved to be loved by him.

He stared at the door to his apartment, just like Frank’s old one. He felt as if he was there, weeks before, before he knew what Gerard was really doing. What him and Frank were really doing. He was there weeks before Gerard ran away and before he was killing people (he hoped.) He was going into this as the person he was weeks before with the knowledge of the person he was now.

He shivered at the sight of the door, at the sight of the thing that was going to get him killed one day. The paint was chipping and worn down. Everything about his life was off, something to fear. Something to feel bad about at some point or other.

The door was something to fear, something that one side of him wanted to leave behind. One side wanted him to open the door and search for Gerard. We know what he chooses, to the dismay of the part of him trying to keep him alive. He was being stupid, he could tell as he walked forward and put his hand around the door knob. He was going to die here, but he couldn’t be bothered. He was saving his brother. He was trying to save his brother.

He had to, this was the best thing that he could do for him. Even if he was a killer, he was his brother. He loved his brother. He had to make sure that he was doing all right. He was a killer, but he was his brother.

He took a deep breath and he entered, trying to find his darling brother, about to save his darling brother. "Gerard?" he asked, loud and through the house, trying to find him from the entrance to the apartment. He looked around for his brother, not even knowing if he was still in the house. He hoped he was.

He didn’t want to know what he was doing if he wasn’t. He shivered and tried to forget about that. He was going to change Gerard. His brother wasn’t going to have homicidal tendencies for much longer.

"Gerard?" he asked, stepping into the place, feet certain and falling with deliberate steps. His eyes moved around into the quiet apartment.

There was a silence to the apartment, something like a murder scene without the blood or the body. We knew what would be there, soon, reader, even if Mikey himself didn’t.  

Mikey was too sure of Gerard to see anything was wrong. All his saw was his once terrifying house that now housed him and Gee. There was nothing wrong with it, quiet, lonely, sinister to the unbiased eye.

His brother was going to be the death of him. And everyone but him knew it. He was oblivious to the fact that his brother was the weapon, his hamartia. He was going to kill him. And he didn’t even acknowledge it. It was his brother, after all. He couldn’t give up on him. He loved him. He needed him to love him back.

His legs trembled, knees knocking together. He wanted to get out of there, but he had to remind himself of the importance of him being there. He wasn’t afraid of Gerard, he couldn’t be afraid of Gerard.

Gerard was his brother and he wasn't afraid of him and that was that. But he knew he should be. But Mikey had never been quite rational. He was always blinded by his emotions. Whether it be sadness or grief or hope to turn his brother into somebody that he could love better.

He could never love a killer. He only loved the part of Gerard that was still his brother. He wanted to love all of his brother. He didn’t want to have to compromise.

He shouldn’t have to make an exception on his morals for his brother to be someone he could thoroughly love. The same goes for Pete. He shouldn’t love murderers, but here we are. He loved those two with all his heart.

He wished Ray was still alive. He was good, he was pure. Maybe Mikey wouldn’t be doing stupid things if Ray was still here to keep him from getting lonely and sick.

He wouldn’t be where he was if Ray was still alive.

He damned Frank for ever taking his friend away. He deserved to die. He didn’t deserve his brother. He didn’t deserve happiness. He deserved to be put in the ground like the rational side of Mikey knew was going to happen to himself.

He had lost Gerard to that asshole. There was nothing left but the memories. There was nothing left but his face and what looking at Gerard made him remember.

He knew that the part that had murdered, that wanted to murder hadn’t spread to the other parts of his body. He was still his brother. He was still his lifelong best friend. There was him buried under that homicidal façade.

He tried to maintain his hope in the best way he could. But it was not really helping.

He loved him so much. Couldn’t he see that he didn’t need to destroy anything? They could start again. They could go far away and forget that this even happened. They could go far away and they could be good people, happy people. His brother was his best friend and he wanted the best for him.

But he couldn’t give him the best when he was doing something that Mikey could not and would not condone. He was killing people for fun, he was trying to get somebody who killed people for fun out of prison.

He was a bad person. Everyone he loved, Pete, Gerard, they were bad people. They were murderers. They wanted to see blood spilling from wounds. They wanted to see light draining from people’s eyes. They wanted to kill and they loved what happened when they did.

They were sick. And Mikey couldn’t love the part of them that loved to kill. But he would love the protector, love the part of Pete that wanted to keep him safe. He would love his brother, the one that he remembered from years before, playing with mud and sharing secrets they didn’t tell anyone else.

They were best friends. He was his best friend but now he was absolutely nothing to him. He couldn’t be anything but nothing because he had to build him back up again.

He was a killer and he was going to find the part of his brother that was still a person, still someone who remembered what love was.

Frank didn’t know love. He wasn’t a person. He had killed too many to remember what it was like to care for another human being. He was a killer. He didn’t deserve Gerard. He didn’t deserve anyone that good.

He had changed his brother. He had killed him so he was nothing but a killer himself. He was born of the blood lust and now he was masquerading that as love. His brother could be so naïve sometimes, so simple. Just as clueless as he himself was. He felt bad for the poor boy.

Gerard wasn’t in love with Frank. It was more like a twisted partnership, apprentice and master, one wanting to kill the other.

Frank had tried to kill him, tried to smother him with a pillow if he remembered correctly. He didn’t really love him. He didn’t really care about him. He was a killer. He had tried to kill Gerard. It was only natural, really. A killer wanting to kill. Gerard was kidding himself by getting close to Frank.

Frank was a murderer. Gerard should have known that he would try to kill him.

And he didn’t, but he still loved him, still went back to him. Still wanted him back. Frank would kill Gerard. Mikey knew it. Every part of him knew that Frank was Gerard’s fatality.

He would murder him in a heartbeat and he didn’t doubt it. They were both killers. It was only natural for them to want to destroy the only thing that they had left. The one thing that they had at their disposal.

Murderers were meant to be alone. They were meant to kill alone and be alone. You never heard of murderous lovers. There was Bonnie and Clyde, but they robbed banks.

If you really thought about it, there was nothing like Frank and Gerard. Frank and Gerard weren’t like Frank and Gerard.

Mikey knew what was real. He knew that they would fuck each other and lie to each other. They would kill together and then they would kill each other whenever they felt like it.

The problem was, this only applied to Frank. He knew his brother, even if their hobbies had changed. Gerard was a murderer but Frank was born for it. Gerard didn’t want to kill Frank, he would never want to kill Frank.

He truly was in love with him, blinded by the fact that he was in love with him. Frank could do no wrong in Gerard’s eyes. He had killed Ray and Gerard was still in love with him.

So it would make sense that he was going to kill his brother for him. He was just that selfless when it came to Frank.

Frank had tried to kill him, tried to murder him out of whatever motivation he had. And Gerard still loved him, still wanted him, was going to get him out of jail. He had tried to kill him and Gerard was still head over heels like before he knew that he was a killer.

And he was sure that he must be at least a little bit grateful. If his homicidal tendencies hadn’t gotten the best of him he would have never gotten his brother back and never learned the truth about Pete being a monster like he was. He would never learn and set all of this in motion if Frank hadn’t tried to kill his brother.

But now Gerard was trying to get back together with Frank, the monster that gave him bruises for a week. The asshole that had killed his best friend. Gerard had excused all of this, he had let this all stay loose. And now he was going to kill Mikey.

One day he was going to wake up and realize that this was for nothing, he killed people for nothing. He would never love again, he would never know what love was again because everyone that ever truly loved him had died at his hands.

Gerard had a close circle of friends before Mikey’s brother died with his innocence. Before Gerard killed for the first time. And they were just getting picked off.

Mikey was the only one left. Him and Ray were the only one’s before. They would trust Gerard with their lives and he had squandered it for someone that loved him less than they did.

But he would stand by Frank’s side forever, let him do whatever. He was a killer. He killed and he allowed killing to happen.

Him and Frank were two peas in a pod. They were each other’s best friends, soul mates.

He wanted him, he loved him. He was never going to leave him. No matter what he did. He had to admit, loyalty like that was hard to come by. But it was difficult trying to commend it when he was trying to end it. His brother didn’t need Frank, but here he was fucking up Mikey’s life again and making it worse than it was when he thought his brother was going to die every day for at least a week.

How time flies when you’re in agony. It felt like it was years ago that Gerard was still innocent in his eyes. It felt like decades when he thought that he was just as much a victim as everyone he killed. Little did he know at the time that all the cynical people were right, Bob was right about Gerard. He was blind but now he could see because his eyes were bleeding. The pain of it all was real and he could feel it.

He was so naïve, so innocent. And he still was. Because he was in his apartment. He was going to die today, he knew it. He knew that he would be killed. He thought of Armani, the last person that he had. There was nothing else left for him. He had an acquaintance and that was it. There was nothing more for him to enjoy.

He was broke, going to college with shitty grades and no future. This was it for him, this was his own form of suicide.

He didn’t want to have to die, he didn’t want to want to die. But tis was what was happening with the story, he was going to die. Gerard was going to kill him.

He was so lonely he was amazed he made it this far. He didn’t have any friends for the longest time. He doesn’t anymore, but at least he gets outside.

He was going to die now, he was going to regain all of his relationships in the afterlife. Maybe there would be a perfect Gerard there, maybe there would be something that just magically made everything better.

He had no one anymore, so he would die for anyone.

Ray was dead, Gerard was dead to him. And he was disenchanted with Pete. There was nothing but a last ditch effort to save his brother from the clutches of our antagonist, Frank. To save him from himself.

That was the real point of it all, he was trying to save Gerard. He was going to save Gerard. He was his brother, for Christ’s sake. He was a killer but Mikey was still selfless towards him.

He would die if he had to, if Gerard couldn’t be reached about certain things. He knew that he was probably going to.

But he still hoped of talking it out, of hugging and laughing and crying. He just wanted to be happy again. He just wanted them to be good again. He didn’t want to have to make himself better by medicating on another person. He didn’t want to have to do that. That was weird, he didn’t want to have to bend over backwards to feel comfortable about such person anyway, like he had to do with Pete.

He had tried his hardest to love him, he knew that he never fully could. There was always going to be something that was stopping them from being in love.  There was always gonna be something that Mikey didn’t like about him.

The fact that he killed.

There was nothing that he could do. Pete was a murderer and he didn’t want to not be one. He was a killer and he would remain a killer for the rest of his life.

Mikey couldn’t do anything that saves him from that, but there was still something that he could do about his brother. He could still save his brother. Even if Pete was a lost cause.

He didn’t love him enough to save him, anyway, he told himself. They would have never worked out even if Pete was a good person.

And Mikey thought that that was because of all the shit that was happening with him and Gerard. Nobody wants to be a part of that if they were normal. Nobody wants to have to have anything to do with something that was so negative.

Maybe Mikey would make it past this day if he had someone to care about him, but he was sure that he was going to die. He was going to die because no one else cared about him. There was nothing for him anymore, there was never anything for him.

He loved Gerard and he wanted to keep him safe, but there was still the fact that he was a killer and he had ruined his life. He had nothing left anymore.

Ray was dead, he was dead, Pete was a killer. There was nobody that was left untouched by this. He was alone in the world, and his last mission was to save his older brother.

He didn’t even care if he succeeded right then because he know that he would later. Gerard would think about it and he would stop killing, at least he hoped. God, he hoped. He didn’t want his brother to be like this forever.

He wanted him to be good, he wanted to help him be good. He was his best friend. He just wanted him to do something with his life that didn’t cause chaos.

It hurt to see Gerard turn into this because he was an artist. He was supposed to be talented. He was supposed to be someone. But now he was only ever a killer and nothing would ever be the same. He was always going to be the artist that was the killer or even the victim, if they painted him as he still was considered.

His brother was going to be an artist, now he was just turning into something disgusting. He was a bad person now, he had already been a bad person if he thought what he was doing was anything normal, anything good.

He was a murderer, there was blood on his hands, of course he wasn’t good. And Mikey wasn’t sure that he knew that. He was never faced with the fact that he was a killer all he ever did was just kill.

There was never any of the funerals, the mourning.

Mikey had felt it. He had lost his brother and he had lost his friend. But now there was nothing left. He was always going to have to clean up after Gerard, picking up the messy pieces of his murder and apologizing as he went along.

He would never be free of this, there would always be this thing hanging over his head.

He wished that he killed him.

He was so lonely. He had nobody. He was alone in the world and he wanted to die. His brother was bad. He was a bad person.

And it was really hard accepting that for Mikey. He had always thought of Gerard as the cool older brother, the one to go for with questions, when you need advice. And to learn that it was all bullshit? There was something about that that just stabbed Mikey in the fucking heart and he didn’t realize it till now.

The years that he had known his brother, he had known a side of him that he showed to people. He never knew of the fact that he killed. There was always just the nicer older brother.

Now, Gerard was a killer and he had that part of his being. Frank gave him that, as a gift, coming free with insanity.

Mikey had never seen his killer side before and he didn’t want to.

He was scared of Pete before, he was going to be scared of Gerard. Because he knew that Pete would never hurt him, that was the difference.

Pete hurt people, but not to the degree that Frank and Gerard did. He didn’t kill for fun. He never killed for fun. But Gerard did, Frank did. They did these gross things voluntarily.

Even if he had known his brother longer than anyone else, there was still the sense of unknown when it came to his killer’s side. He knew that his brother had a high chance of killing him.

But there was nothing he could do but try to talk his brother away from all the carnage. He wouldn’t give up on him, he would never give up on him. He couldn’t. If he gave up on him he would really be alone.

He didn’t want to be alone, he was terrified of being alone. He loved his brother, and he wanted his brother to love him. He was a killer. He was a murderer. He was going to have to save him. He wanted to save him. He had to save him to make himself better, he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to feel bad anymore. He had to have somebody to love, he was going to die.

If all went badly, at least. Or maybe it was better. Mikey couldn’t decide, he was still flopping back and forth between wanting to die and wanting to live. It was a weird process, picking out the pros and cons of death because you think of it so much it just becomes second nature.

Mikey had stared death in the face and spit in its eye. Death didn’t want Mikey, that was why it let him live around three murderers at different times. He surely would have been dead if Death wanted him.

He was staring it in the face right now.

He was going in and he was trying to save his brother. He knew that he couldn’t be saved, deep down he knew that he knew. But there was still the feeling of a need, gnawing at his skin. His brother was a killer, but he was his brother.

And that was what got Mikey was the fact that they were still related, there were still all those memories. He might have been a killer but he was also the guy that saved him from bullies and gave him wedgies.

He was a killer but he was also his best friend. And he couldn’t differentiate between the two.

He gulped. His knees were weak. He was scared, at least the sensible part of him was, at least. There was something about this that felt like it was bad, dirty, something that was covered in the art of being terrible.

It felt like it was illegal, like he was a kid sticking his hand in the cookie jar. He was doing something he shouldn’t have.

He was going into the situation knowing that he would not come out alive and going in anyway. He knew that Gerard was still bad, he just wanted to die.

He just wanted to make his brother suffer. He knew that he would kill him, think nothing of it and then any other mousy haired wiry kid he met would remind him of Mikey.

He wouldn’t even like killing anymore, that one thing that he gave up everything for. He had given up everything in a heartbeat for this stuff.

And Mikey was going to fucking ruin that for him and Gerard wouldn’t even know it. So, Mikey would become a martyr.

He wanted to turn his brother good, make him good. But to be honest, he wouldn’t be able to do that unless he lets Gerard kill him. He has to die for this to work, words would do nothing with Gerard.

There was nothing. He could talk to him all day and Gerard would continue to kill, but the fact that he was going to be faced with the fact that he had offed his own brother was amazing. He would never get over it and it would just consume his life.

He knew what he was doing, even if it was on accident.

But he still retained a stupid hope that he would make him better with a few words, no something big had to happen for Gerard to want to stop killing, he had killed his friend. He had killed Ray, the sweetest person that they had ever known to be with Frank, that was love. That was madness.

Frank loved to kill, Gerard wouldn’t give that up for the world. They had that in common now, they shared that as a couple. If Gerard stopped killing Mikey was sure that Frank would notice and kill him.

I mean, reader, Frank had already tried to when they were all happy go lucky. But now that something was wrong, something was up he would murder him in a heartbeat. He would not be useful if he was not killing and Frank loved his killing.

Would he feel bad that his brother died when he died because of him? No way. He was a killer and he deserved it, besides, he would be alright after a while. He just needed to have a little stint in hell.

There was something about being among the flames that made you humble. And Gerard really needed that.

But Mikey remained hopeful that he didn’t have to die and by extension Gerard didn’t have to die. He was a killer, but he was still his brother.

He was a killer but he knew that there was still something good inside of him, something that clung to the underbelly of his ribs.. Knew that he was a good person, deep inside of him he knew that the seed of good was still implanted on his soul.

He couldn’t be all bad because at one point in time he was the best person ever. He was the nicest and most gentle person ever.

Mikey could remember when he was a nice person, when they were close and Gerard wasn’t a killer. He had been nice before Frank and then it all went downhill. He started getting secretive and grouchy. You could feel the effects of Frank on his skin the first day he met him. He was instantly in love with him, he was so star struck by Frank Iero.

Gerard was innocent when he fell in love with him, and that was endearing. But now he lost that and there was just the blood lust.

He had had a total turn around into something disgusting, something terrible. He was his brother but he had never seen him do anything this drastic style change, idea change. After Frank it was what Frank said went.

Mikey was amazed that he couldn’t spot the difference between pre-Frank Gerard and post-Frank Gerard a few weeks before when not _everything_ was completely fucked. Now it was obvious, glaringly. The changes were night and day.

God, he was so stupid when he was a kid, there was nothing that he could do right. He couldn’t save his brother from being turned into a brainwashed asshole. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong, but things just kept going wrong.

And he would try to fix it, but it was like holding utensils on your toes. He wasn’t the Cat in the Hat. He couldn’t do these kinds of things.

He just wanted to save Gerard. He knew he couldn’t. He had lost him to Frank and that stung like a bitch, the fact that he would never get him back again was a pain in his chest. He wanted his brother and he wanted him to be good. But he was bad. He was a bad man, a killer. He would never be anything but a killer. He would never be anything but a monster.

He was a good person, he was an amazing person. He was his best friend and he loved him. He loved his brother with all his heart. But he was a killer with his target set on Mikey.

He was going to kill his own brother because he loved someone. That was the most insane thing that he had ever heard. Gerard was crazy, he was beginning to realize. He was crazy and was in love with someone as crazy as he was.

Mikey was still trying to come to terms with this all, he was still trying to process it without breaking down in tears. He knew that he was a killer, he accepted that he had killed before. But God Damn it, he could still save him. He could still love his brother and make sure that he was okay. He wouldn’t give up on him, he couldn’t. He was his best friend, he was his first and only best friend.

 He had no one else, Gerard had killed the only other person that he had ever gone to.

He knew that he probably should go to Armani, make Armani take his problems.

He knew that she would be upset with his death. He took solace in the fact that there would be someone at his funeral. Someone at his funeral that loved him very much.

He wondered if Pete would show up. He wondered if he would get a funeral. Gerard would be gone and he wasn’t sure how he would cover this up. So he might never get a funeral.

That thought depressed him to no end, there was nothing more that he wanted than to be able to have the people who did loved him, now dwindling in numbers, come and stare at the place in the ground where he was.

He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. But the funeral made it easier.

He sighed to himself. He was going to try to save his brother, he had to, at least.

He was a murderer, but Mikey was not going to give up on him. He loved him too much to give up on him. He had only ever given up on Pete. He wasn’t going to give up on Gerard, it was not the same.

And Pete was not as important as Gerard was. Gerard was his brother, he knew that he could change him. There was no other reason to change Pete rather than love. And the fact that Mikey had morals.

And he didn’t need his love, he didn’t need to love him. It would just have been nice to have that to fall back on, he knew that he had it before, even if he didn’t know that it was completely fake.

It was still nice to be held at night, loved and let cry. It was good to have him there with him, even if it was fake.  He liked being cuddled, he liked being held. There was something about it that made him feel really good about himself.

But now there was no need for him, there was no need to love him. Even though he still did, at least a little bit. A love like that sticks to you. He loved Pete and he would always love Pete. For the rest of his dwindling time as a conscious human being.

How lovely a thought that was. He was going to die within the next few hours. He vaguely felt as if he should be scared. Should he? Should he be scared of death when he had dealt with it in droves?

He sighed again. He was going to die and he wasn’t even afraid. He felt as if he was cheated.

He thought back to all the people who loved him again, Ray, Armani, Pete, Gerard. The last one was up for debate. But all the others were people he loved. The first two, at least, were people that he wanted to.

He couldn’t love Pete.

And he didn’t need to, anymore. He didn’t have an obligation to him. He had one to his brother to save him.

He didn’t need to save Gerard.

That was the difference between his love for Gerard and his love for Pete. He only ever had Gerard. When all else failed he had Gerard. He was like his back up generator. He was a killer. But he was the reason Mikey was alive. Pete was the reason that he hated himself.

He felt terrible for loving Pete when he had killed a bunch of people at random times. He knew that he could be happy with Pete but he didn’t want to be, he had too many skeletons shoved in his fucking closets.

His brother was his best friend, without him he would have been lonely. And all the skeletons were out dancing in the room.

That was the true difference between Pete and Gerard.

Mikey couldn’t believe that he was in this situation, either. It blew his fucking mind the fact that he had to deal with this. He didn’t want to have this on his mind. He didn’t want to have to sacrifice himself, but he would.

Here Gerard was, his darling brother fucking up his life like they were nothing, screwing him over like he was just an acquaintance. Like he was more like an enemy.

His brother was a killer but Mikey wasn’t about to turn his back on him. Even if he was going to get back together with the person that tried to kill him, that tried to murder him while he slept that led this all into motion.

He could have left Frank behind, left a person that he would kill and die for behind. Because he would kill for his brother, the problem was that it was his brother who he would kill. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to have to. But he would.

He would die if it meant Gerard would be happy. Even though he wanted him to be happy with Mikey alive.

He wanted to be happy with his brother. He loved Gerard. He wanted to not be lonely anymore. Gerard had ruined that for him. Frank had ruined that for him. They were killers but they had just set fire to his life.

Now he was in tatters and making his last pitiful stance. There was nothing left in him anymore but loyalty. Loyalty that would be the death of him.

His brother was the only person he had. Why not die for him? Die by his hand? It was something to do on the weekend.

They had already fucked up his life. He had nobody. No Ray, no Pete, and the rational part of him knew that he didn’t have Gerard anymore.

Frank had taken everything from him, so why didn’t he just turn into a crucified?

They had ruined everything and now they would ruin him. He knew that they would. He wasn’t afraid of it, though. He would be a martyr, if he had to. If it would make Gerard happy and he knew that it would. His brother was still a sick bastard.

There was nothing for him to live for. He just wanted to be good. He just wanted everyone he loved to be a good person, too.

He never wanted to be caught in the struggles between good and evil. He never wanted to have to bring his brother back from the dark side. But he knew that he had to, or so many people would die. So many more people would die if he couldn’t stop his brother.

He had to try to stop him.

And the only way he knew how to stop him was to love him. To love him and let him walk all over him, if he had to. He was a killer. But he was also his brother.

And he was sure that he had to start accepting the part of him that killed was also the part of him that helped him learn how to read and to speak. He was his brother. His brother, the killer.

He loved him, all the parts of him, loyally and forever.

He was his best friend, he was the only person that he truly had anymore. He didn’t want to give that up. He didn’t want to have to. He had to hold on for as long as he could. He could cast Pete off because Pete wasn’t his family. He was just something that got him through some tough weeks and lied to his face.

Gerard lied but it was for a reason. He just wanted to be happy. Mikey could allow that. He didn’t try to turn him over to what he was doing. But he was blood, he was his brother. He would die for him.

He shivered. He should just walk away, tell Armani. People would die because of him. He was a killer, too, now. Even if everyone he loved who was a killer was forsaken. He was a murderer, too. He wasn’t going to go to Armani. He was going to let Gerard kill everyone.

He knew that he should tell her. But he couldn’t move away from his home, the one place where they were supposed to start on their own. They were going to shape their lives and it all turned to shit.

But that was what happened when you were bad people. And Mikey was a thoroughly terrible and stubborn person. He couldn’t help it. He was terrified of being lonely.

He would rather die than be lonely. And that was what he was going to do. Because he was selfish and didn’t want to have to lose anyone else.

If he died before he came to terms with the fact that Gerard was not what he thought he was, he wouldn’t have to lose him. He wouldn’t have to get over the fact that he was truly a killer.

It was as simple as that, he would never have to face the truth that he was a murderer. It was easier than understanding that he was a bad person. He would point the gun at himself.

Gerard was a killer, this was what he did. Mikey would let his brother be happy because he didn’t have the guts to do anything else. He was a coward. He was a selfish, lonely, coward.

He didn’t know, dear reader that he had already lost his brother. And Gerard hadn’t really, either. Gerard thought that he was doing something good by his brother. Doing something good by killing him.

Gerard entered after him, door opening on his stoic body. Mikey turned around at the sound and rejoiced. He would try his best to make him a better person, even though the pessimistic part of him knew that it would never happen, Gerard was going to be a bad person forever.

That was just who he was now, who Frank had turned him into. He was a killer. He was a murderer. There was a stamp on his soul now, that was all that he was.

Gerard didn’t want to be a killer. He just wanted to kill, there was a difference. He wished that he could be reborn every time he murdered so he didn’t have to live with the fact that he had done that after all the euphoria wore off.

He was a killer, and Frank was, too. But he wished that he could separate it more. He didn’t want to be a killer. And that was what counted. That was what counted.

He wasn’t a bad person, he just had bad hobbies.

He stared at his brother’s happy face. He knew what was going to happen. Did Mikey? He must. He was not stupid. He was not stupid anymore, at least.

But he was still excited to see his brother, Gerard could see it in his eyes. He felt the cold metal of the blade against his skin.

Mikey had to have known what was going to happen. It made his heart ache, the fact that his brother knew what was going to happen but he put himself on the altar for him.

He was truly selfless, truly loyal. Gerard could tell why Pete loved him now. He was more pure than anyone Gerard had ever met. He was too good to die.

But he had to.

He gulped back all the pain he felt. He was going to be dead by the end of the day and Gerard would have to hide his actual death from everyone. He looked excited, like a little kid.

He really hoped that he didn’t know. Maybe he could just leave, fake his own death and get out of there. He didn’t want to have to kill Mikey.

He didn’t want to have to murder his baby brother.

He had a feeling that this would not be fun after he killed him. Murder wouldn’t have the same effect on him as it did, before his brother died at his hand.

He would see it different, he was sure of it. He would be more aware of what he was taking away.

He found solace in the fact that he would not enjoy this. He would kill but this would not be like any other murder. He loved Mikey, that was the difference.

He was his brother and he didn’t want to have to do this. But this was for the best, he told himself. Mikey was going to die so he could live, so he could be happy.

He wouldn’t have to see what was going on with him. He wouldn’t be faced with the fact that his darling brother was a murderer. He took solace in that, too. Mikey would never have to see his face on the television followed by someone he had brutally murderer.

He loved killing but he loved his brother, too. And he couldn’t make a compromise. So he would do what he did best and he would kill, he would kill to make it better for him and Frank. He needed to kill his brother so they could be happy.

They would be so happy. He would honor Mikey. He would carve his name into his next victim. He would not die in vain.

He knew that he loved Gerard unconditionally. So he would love him back. And every time he killed he would feel sick to his stomach.

His brother was his best friend, he would do that for him. He would die every time he did anything he loved, for him. If that was what made Mikey happy, he would do it.

He loved his brother so much. He loved him so much.

He didn’t want to have to kill him. His heart beat in his ears. He was his best friend. But he could not remember that, he could not think about that if he wanted to get this over with.

He couldn’t cry. After this he had to get Frank out of prison. He couldn’t be sad. No, he wouldn’t be sad. This was for the best, this was for Gerard’s best and Mikey’s best. He was saving Mikey, he tried to tell himself. He was saving his baby brother from the heartache of the kill that Gerard now had to face on his own.

This was for the best, he told himself. For the best.

He had to kill every piece of his old life if he wanted to be with Frank. First it was Ray and now it was Mikey. His two best friends, it was just about time. He was lucky if he saved his brother from Frank the first time.

Now he would save him for the second and last time, the most permanent time. He would be happy in the clouds, away from the sin that his brother was committing. He was a killer and Mikey did not need to see that.

Mikey didn’t have to know that. He didn’t have to witness that. He was a good person. He was a beautiful person. He didn’t want his brother to hate him, so he would close his eyes forever so he could continue to do what he did.

He tried to tell himself that he was saving his little brother. That he was going to make sure he was safe by being the one to kill him.

Frank would have tortured him first, for getting him and Gerard torn apart. He knew what Frank was, who Frank was. He was brutal when it came to revenge kills. He would make Mikey really want to die.

Gerard could yell and he could leave him, but his hatred of Mikey was something bigger than his love for Gerard. He had wanted to kill him since before they ran away. He was a murderer, he would prioritize his fun over Gerard.

That was not something that they could reverse. He would just have to do it himself, a euthanasia, if you will. He would mercy kill his little brother.

He would kill Mikey so he could live happily. So that he could never think of the ball and chain that was his brother.

Simple as that.

But he still felt terrible when Mikey turned around with eyes full of life. They would not be like that for much longer. He would have to kill him. They would go dull. He knew the feeling of watching them.

It killed you inside, as well as the person you were actually killing. It was something entirely different from what you know to be death. You get up close and personal with it, you drain it. It is something like a rush.

He loved it. But he had the feeling that he would hate it, now. His brother looked so full of it, so full of happy life. It was disgusting to think that he was going to get rid of it very soon. He was a killer, this was what he did, he told himself.

If he could do this, Frank would want him. If he could kill his little brother he would want to love Gerard. He would fall in love with Gerard.

Gerard’s heart nearly shattered at the fact that his baby brother’s voice was so excited. He was going to die and he didn’t even know it. He was going to die. Oh God.

He would put on a poker face, he wouldn’t let Mikey know what he was feeling, he wouldn’t let himself know what he was thinking, what he was feeling. He would mask them, repress them completely.

"Gee, you're here! I have to talk to you!" he said,excitedly. He didn't even noticed the fact that his brother's face was so devoid of emotion. There was nothing there but the cold killer that Mikey was never sure he really was.

He kept his face blank, he wasn’t going to be himself, he wasn’t going to make any noise. This was not a fun kill. This was his brother. He never wanted to kill his brother.

He grabbed at his shoulders. He had no idea of the horrorshow that was to go down, that was for the pessimist that inhabited his body before these moments. Gerard was good, he would never hurt Mikey.

He would fix Gerard and he wouldn't have to go away! 

He wasn't afraid of his brother, he couldn't be. He was his brother and he knew him like the back of his hand.

Or so he thought.

Gerard sneered, the only emotion he had shown since walking in. Crossing his arms, he spoke to Mikey in the most rotten voice that had ever curdled milk. "Baby brother." He would not let him know how much it hurt to watch him die, how much it would hurt.

Mikey would shiver if he didn't sense the situation was about to get fatal. He shook his shoulders, eyes wild and peering into his. "Listen to me, Gerard. I know who you are," he said.

"I would hope so," his brother looked away and waltzed into the building, still cruel. He didn't meet his brother's eyes till he had said the next thing. "It was about time you figured out, baby brother," he said, 

"I know you kill," he said, taking a gulp. He took a step back. He shouldn't have came here. He knew that he shouldn't have came here. He was beginning to rethink it like he always did.

Gerard had a sinister spark to his eye, like all their words were fueling his now growing need for homicide. He didn't like the way it looked, his once bright hazel eyes now dead, a black hole after the supernova.

He couldn't look in Gerard's eyes. 

Gerard laughed at him, taking a daring step forward that Mikey quickly countered with another step back. "It was about time. You know what happens now, though, don't you?" he asked, biting his lip in anticipation.

"What?" Mikey knew, but he figured asking wold buy him some time. His knees shivered as he walked backwards, hitting the couch and sitting down, staring up at Gerard. He was beginning to look a lot like Frank, like the man that had been Gerard's bittersweet downfall. His voice trembled and Gerard answered, the most booming and cold voice he had ever used.

"Dear brother, if I told you then that would ruin the surprise," he said, opening arms wide. He was Jesus on the cross, excited for the kill.

His brother was not his brother anymore, nothing anymore. Gerard was nothing but a killer. The more knowing side of Mikey knew that there was nothing he could do.

But the lonely side won over his other. "Gerard, you don't have to do this," he said, jittery as the other side of his soul. His brother was a good person. But this was not his brother. This was something else. And he had to get Gerard back. He was a good person. He could be a good person, he knew it.

"Oh, but I do, brother. Think of it as a mercy killing," he said, lunging at his small form, trembling and terrified.

He was like all the other victims. Gerard pulled his knife from his jacket, having come back to the house to grab it just in case he saw his brother on the street, or if something like this were to happen. 

Mikey's always smaller bird bones poked against his skin as he tried to get leverage to kill him. He needed to make it look like it was a suicide and he was not helping. Didn't Mikey know why he was doing this?

He was trying to save him. He didn't need to be dragged down any further. Gerard was just trying to save his baby brother. Couldn't he see that?

He looked so afraid. He fought him like an animal, caged. He wanted to kill him, not for the sake of killing, but the sake of saving. He needed to be saved before he could hurt anymore. He didn't want his brother to hurt. He wanted to save him. He needed to save him. 

"Quit it!" he snarled at him, grappling with his hands, trying to unravel his from the knife. He was trying to get to him, stab him, slit his throat, do anything. It was already hard on him, killing his brother wasn't easy. But the fact that he had to do it when he so obviously didn't want to die was painful.

At least the Mikey that thought Gerard was innocent only ever wanted to find him. This one wanted to live and he couldn't let him do that! He couldn't let him live.

He needed to kill him because his brother was hurting. He saw it in his eyes. He didn’t want to die but that would make it easier on him. A mercy killing, he told himself again. His brother was going to die so he didn’t have to suffer anymore.

“Gerard! Stop!” his brother yelled to him, trying to swat him away. He was always smaller than Gerard, even if he was taller. It made it harder for him to get away, Gerard was too strong for him. It was one of the only times his weight was useful.

He ignored his cries and went on trying to kill him, stabbing at him as much as he could, not letting his hands get in the way of it.

“Let me do this for you!” Gerard cried to him, knowing that he didn’t and couldn’t understand. His poor brother was innocent and naïve on most things.

That was why he had to die. He had to die because he couldn’t keep a secret and couldn’t keep himself sane. He had to die because he was his baby brother and he was going the keep him safe. This was just him keep him safe. When he got Frankie out he would do much worse. So he had to kill him now.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep Frank from hilling his little brother. He was dead set on killing him. He knew that he would make him suffer.

He had been wanting to for months. He wanted to keep him safe. He was going to have to kill him and that was that. He was so sorry. He felt so bad for his little brother.

He was too nice to have to die. But he did. He couldn’t be with Frank if he didn’t. He had to have Frank. If he kept his brother alive he wouldn’t be able to stop Frank from hurting him.

He shivered at the thought of his brother, lying broken and beaten. He didn’t want Frank to hurt him. He had to take care of him in the best way he could. He had to kill him himself.

He didn’t get the fact that he was truly saving him. His poor baby brother couldn’t see the big picture. But he was going to show it to him and then he would understand what he was trying to do for him.

“What are you trying to do for me?” he asked in a screech, trying his damndest to get his fingers around the knife. He should have never have come home. He was going to kill him. He was killing him.

Gerard didn’t answer for a moment, trying to get the leg up on Mikey, too busy doing that. “I’m helping you out, baby brother. I’m gonna save you,” he said to him. His tone was dark, tongue coming out of his mouth.

He knew he excited, had learned that he existed only days before. But he had never seen him in action. And this was what he was met with, his brother in kill mode.

He still looked like his brother. He was still his brother, even when he was a murderer. He was his best friend. That was why he tried to save him.

“I’m trying to save _you_ ,” he said, finally able to gain control of the knife. He took the opportunity to flip themselves over so he was on top, knife to Gerard’s throat.

Gerard didn’t look afraid. He didn’t look like anyone who had a knife up to their throat. He looked like he was bored with this all, frantic in a way that was not to save his life. He had grown accustomed and comfortable with death. That was the most heartbreaking thing.

Even if Gerard could reinvent himself far away he would never recover the human innocence they were all born with. Once you take enough lives, you are met with the fact that you are a murderer. And that death is nothing but a tool of the brave and the weak.

He gulped. His brother had changed. He knew that he had.

“Mikey, he’ll kill you in worse ways than I will,” he said, heartbreak in his voice.

Mikey knew what he was talking about. He had lost his brother. He only wanted Frank now. Mikey had to die to let him be with him. He had to die for his brother to be happy.

And if he couldn’t do anything better with his life, he would let him have that.

He gave him the knife. Gerard was going to be happy with Frank. He wouldn’t be here to feel the pain that resonated every time he killed. No, he would let Gerard have that.

It was time to let go of being human. He didn’t want to have this anymore. He was going to die for a cause he was so adamantly against. How ironic, how beautiful. He was going to let himself die for a brother he wasn’t quite sure he had anymore.

Gerard looked stunned as he was handed the knife. But he took it in his grasp anyway. “Are you sure about this, Mikey?” he asked.

Mikey’s brother was staring at him with wide eyes under him, his eyes wide and surprised. Mikey nodded and let himself over. “I don’t want to love Pete anymore. And nobody loves me enough, anymore. Tell Armani some I killed myself or something, I don’t care,” he shrugged. “Remember me. When you kill, so you know that you’re a bad person,” he added bitterly.

He would let his brother kill. But he would make him know that what he was doing was wrong. That he was a bad person. Because he was, Frank and Gerard were bad people.

And Mikey knew that he probably wasn’t any better.

Gerard furrowed his eyebrows and pressed in with the knife to his throat, pale white and reddening with the blade.

Mikey stared at him, in the eye, brave and sure in that moment. He couldn’t regret what was happening to him because he wouldn’t be there for it.

Gerard wouldn’t tell Pete. He wouldn’t be able to. He loved Mikey to pieces. He would be heartbroken.

They would just get Frank out of prison and then he might. He might just tell him that he was dead. He didn’t need to know that Gerard killed him. He didn’t need to know what he was doing to his baby brother.

Pressing down on his throat till the blood spilled. Like Natalie. Like all the others that Frank had killed in this way.

He was no better.

Gerard was beginning to see his brother as less of a human and more of a victim, something to pass time. But this was not his best hobby.

He used to be an artist. He used to be his best friend.

Mikey wasn’t breathing anymore, and his eyes were glassed over with death. There was nothing left of him besides the body.

He got up and wrote the note. Pete would never know.

His legs were shaky and he exited the apartment, not looking back at his brother’s body.

 

 


	13. Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boom hey hi this is very kind of filler chapter-y kinda a drawn out thing sorry idk i don't want it to be over to soon.

Gerard shook as he cleaned up his brother, eyes already dead before he killed him. He couldn’t believe that Mikey had sacrificed himself for him. He couldn’t believe that he was standing here as a killer of kin. There was blood on his shirt. Blood that was his brother’s. He couldn’t believe that he had gotten to this point in his life where he would kill Mikey.

He wanted to protect him, he had wanted to protect him. Now there was nothing between them. There was nothing that he could do for his brother now. He was dead and he had done what he was supposed to do for Frank. This was what Frank wanted him to do. He didn’t want to have to kill his brother, but it was the only way he could prove himself to Frank.

He loved Frank, he loved the way the blood ran whenever he slit someone’s throat.

Gerard could still feel Mikey’s blood, on his skin, hands. Under his finger nails. He was sick with the fact that he was stained with it. He would never be able to wash it off. After all those years, he would never be able to get it off of him. It was making him feel like he was going to vomit. Like he was going to be sick if he had to look at any more of his brother’s blood.

He had been driven to this. He didn’t want to have to do it. But he did. He had to kill his brother and now he was drowning in all the blood that he was still spouting. There were rivers of him, coming out of his neck, his eyes were covered in glass, unspoken and dead. He was gone. His baby brother was gone and he was the killer. He wanted to close his eyes but he couldn’t stand to touch his body lest his hands do something worse to him. He couldn’t stop himself if he would hurt his brother again now, he was made to hurt everyone he loved.

The reason why he couldn’t hurt Frank was because Frank couldn’t be hurt. He hurt Gerard. Gerard was not as good as him yet. He was only a novice killer. He wasn’t at his level yet. He was a killer but he wasn’t the best he could be at it. Frank was.

Frank could hurt whoever he wanted. He could make Gerard hurt whoever he watned. That was how Mikey died. Because Frank wanted him to die. Frank wanted Gerard to hurt him. To kill him. To spill his blood.

It always seemed to come back to blood. It was Gerard’s most favorite part of killing and now it was his least. His brother’s blood seemed darker, thicker than anyone else’s that he had offed. Was it the fact that it was still flowing against the dark of the carpet, making its way to Gerard’s feet. He didn’t want any more blood. He didn’t want any more of his brother’s blood for himself. Frank could have that. He could just mourn what he had done to his baby brother.

They had the same blood type, the same blood line. And he had killed him. His brother was dead. He was dead. He was dead and Gerard was the killer, Gerard was the killer. He didn’t want to look at his body, he would remember his last few seconds of life if he did. There was nothing anymore. Nothing.

He couldn’t let there be anything more than the nothing that Mikey’s life was now. Would their parents cry? Would Armani get sad? Would Pete? He didn’t know how they would react. He wasn’t even sure how he was reacting. He didn’t want him to die. But they didn’t know that he was protecting him, that he was keeping him safe. They didn’t know what he was doing for Mikey, what he had done for his little baby brother.

He didn’t look at his eyes, at his body. He couldn’t allow himself to do so. He didn’t feel the way his limbs were soft and hard at the same time, something intangible in their death in the way that they felt and laid. He was everything and nothing, his brother was always everything and nothing at the same time. He loved him so much his soul hurt. He had killed his brother, he had killed his baby brother.

He was a murderer of the most innocent species. He reminded himself that he was keeping him safe. Frank could have done so much worse.

And he had done this for a reason. If he didn’t have to kill him, Frank would have and he would have senselessly. He did it to prove himself to Frank, to let him know that he was ready to move on and be a murderer like his lover was. He wanted to learn more about killing and now Frank knew that he was worthy of it, that he could kill anyone he wanted to be cause he could kill the person he didn’t.

He knew how Frank worked but he still felt bad about it all. He knew that this was necessary for them to exist together again.

He felt dirty. He felt like he was nothing, truly nothing. Never to be loved again. But Frank loved him. There was still someone who would want him because he was a killer.

Yes, there was still Frank. There was still someone who was there for him, who would love him _for_ all the bad things that he had done. Mikey was going to leave him, Mikey had died because he would rather his brother be faced with his sins then be loved. He was selfish. All of them were so selfish.

He was a killer. He was a killer. Mikey was his best friend and now he was in heaven, now he was nothing and his body was the only thing that remained on this mortal realm. He was a killer. He was a killer. There was nothing keeping him to what he once was, to what he still wanted to be.

He wanted to be his brother, he wanted to be innocent and happy. And that was why he had to kill him. So Frank would love him. So Frank would want to love him.

He had been weak. He had been uncertain. Now he was a true killer.

But he still didn’t want to be. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to be loved and love everyone else. But he didn’t want to do it like this.

He didn’t mean for it to happen like this. He just wanted to be happy. And something had overtaken him. Something had turned him into a killer. He was a killer and he was happy with that. He was a killer and Mikey had not been happy with the fact that he was.

He wanted everything to be okay. He wanted Frank to be with him and he wanted him to be friends with Mikey. He wanted to go to the movies and have children with him.

But there was nothing now, their future was severed for the want of a moment of bliss.

He knew that they had squandered it, but he still got emotional about it, still was fucked up with the fact that he was a killer.

Frank was a killer, too. They would never have kids, they would never have anything but each other and a bunch of knives.

They were killers. It was what they did.

And besides, he was growing apart from his brother before then, growing up and getting stuck in his routines while Mikey was going to college and making something of himself. He wasn’t moving on, but Mikey was. And now they were reversed. Gerard was the only one moving at all.

They had become opposites. There was nothing that kept them together anymore. They used to be the same person, one taller, one older, one thinner, but there was nothing that could have forced them apart. There was nothing that could make them hate each other. They were friends, they were one in the same.

And now Mikey was dead and all the angels wept.

He shook. He felt dirty. He felt bad. He had killed his own brother. He wanted to leave him. Leave him like that and run away, run to Frank. IT was time to get him, time to find him again. Pete couldn’t know, he wouldn’t help if he knew.  He would die if he knew, kill him if he knew. He couldn’t find out. He couldn’t find out that Gerard killed his baby brother. He loved him so much. It would kill him if he was dead. It would kill him.

He had plucked his little brother’s wings. Everyone loved Mieky Way. Everyone loved his little brother, wanted to protect him. He wanted to protect him.

And he had killed him. He had protected him, he reminded himself again. He was a killer, he was his brother’s protector. He had killed him to make sure that he didn’t hurt anymore. He would have kept hurting if he didn’t kill him. He would be writhing like a worm if he hadn’t killed him. It was for the best. His brother, and everyone else, would soon see that he was a good person because he had killed his little brother. He was a better person because he had done it for him.

He was just glad that he didn’t put up a fight. He knew what Gerard had to do, in the last few moments of his life he knew. His brother knew that he had to kill him for them to move on. Rebirth from death, his corpse would make flowers grow where he was buried. He would be fertilizer for the nature. He would be living, through the grass that shot up from the ground, puckered and sun kissed.

It was for the best, for the better. But Pete would not see it that way. He knew that he would not see it that way. So he tried not to tell him, would try not to tell him. He didn’t need to know. Nobody needed to know about what he was going to be doing with his brother’s body that night, what Lyn-z would help him do.

He had to keep it from him, if just for a little while. He sighed and shook harder, staring at his body as he called him. He couldn’t know. _Keep your voice steady,_ he told himself, _Don’t let him suspect a thing._ He couldn’t sense that he had killed Mikey. He needed everybody he could get, especially someone as experienced as Pete.

Lyn-z was great, but he was terrified that she would skid out if she had to kill anyone. He didn’t know how serious she was, she had to tell him. She had to show him. This was her first test, he would make sure that she was ready for the responsibility that she was going to be given when it came time for her to deliver on her help to him.

He knew that she would do anything for him, but how good and with what ease he needed to know. He needed to know that she could be counted on by him, Frank, and Pete. If she was going to be part of the loop she would have to be tested.

He knew just the thing to get her to prove that she was a killer like him and Pete, that she could make it. He kept his eyes from glancing to his brother’s body. He couldn’t think about Mikey when he was talking to Pete it would throw him off. He had to make sure that he didn’t know what he had done. He would die if he knew. He would kill him if he knew. He would hurt so much if he knew. That was why he couldn’t.

He didn’t want to look at Mikey, he was sick. He was sick of the fact that he was a killer of someone he loved. Of someone everyone loved. He had nipped the wings off an angel and shoved them down his throat. He was bleeding, still bleeding even if he had stopped bleeding. There was so much blood. There was too much blood around him, he didn’t want to deal with this. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He was sick with what he was, what he was doing. He was a killer, a murderer.

He had turned into a monster and he had loved it. He needed Frank back. He needed his Frankie back to feel whole again, to be real again. He didn’t want this to happen to him. He never wanted this to happen. But it had to. He had to get over it, he was a killer. At least he was getting Frank back.

“Pete?” he asked to the receiver as he heard him pick up. His fingers seemed to shake with the weight of the caked on blood. The blood he would be terrified of if he couldn’t get off. He was already sickened by it, if he had to live with it, it would kill him. Just like he had killed Mikey. He would get it off as soon as possible, as soon as he could. He was afraid it would seep into his skin, terrified that he would be consumed by the blood as much as the bloodlust. He shook his head and tried to think straight, he would talk to Pete and get his mind off of what he was, what he had done.

“Pete? I need Frank. I need to get Frankie,” he knew that he sounded desperate. But he was shaking still from the kill. He was cold and scared and alone. There was nothing but sadness that was left with him and the corpse. He was a killer. They were all killers.

He didn’t want to stare at his eyes. He had killed his brother. He missed him, missed the companionship that his brother brought to him. He had been a good friend, a great friend. He cared about him and loved him. But now there was nothing between them because only one was alive. He was the only one left alive. He seemed to know that this was the only option for the two brothers to have. They both knew their fate, they had sealed it months before. He was a killer. A killer. He murdered and he loved to do so.

This was not a good high, it was one that clouded his mind, one that turned him into a maniac. He had never had a bad kill. But this was the worst yet. This was the first one that he was regretting as the time went on.

He had never felt bad because of it. But now he was beginning to feel like this was the worst thing he had ever done. And it was. He was a killer. But he was still a person with a heart, even if it wasn’t beating. He was a murderer.

He didn’t want to think about what he had done. He was a real killer now. This was everything that Frank wanted him to be. He was everything that Frank wanted him to be now. He was so happy that he was so good for Frank. He was a killer and he was wanted now.

Frank wanted him and now he had to get him back. What use was the death of his brother if he wasn’t going to get him back. He missed him. He itched for him. He missed him so much, he just wanted to feel him, love him.

He was going to get him back. Pete was going to help him get Frank back. He missed him so much. His heart ached and hurt and wished for him. Frank would know what he did to get him back. He would understand that he was a killer and he would make him feel better. He knew what he was, who he was. He would help him wash the blood off of his hands.

He just loved him so much, he wanted to hold him so much.

“I know Gerard, we’re gonna get him,” Pete allowed over the phone. He didn’t know his lover was dead. He didn’t know his lover was dead and Gerard was going to keep it that way. He didn’t need to know, not yet. He needed his help. He didn’t want him to turn his back on him yet. He was a big part in what they were doing.

He needed to get Frank back so he needed to keep quiet about his latest kill, his baby brother was dead and Pete couldn’t know about any of it.

He was clueless in himself. He was so innocent, as innocent as Mikey was. It would get him killed at one point in time. He was weak because he loved. And because he loved with no inhibitions.

Frank hurt Gerard and that was what made him powerful. He would not let love in the way of killing. Killing was in his nature, his lover for Gerard was something different. It was unavoidable. Gerard respected that was what he needed to do. He didn’t hold any grudges, not anymore.

He knew that Frank wanted him to know that he would always love killing more when he let Gerard go that first time. He knew now, he had learned now that to be a killer it has to come first.

You could love but you could not let it consume you like killing would. Killing was now Gerard’s entire being.

But he still needed Frank. Maybe he would never be as good of a murderer as Frank was. Maybe he would never be as masterful. But he could love him. Frank was the one meant for killing. Gerard was just along for the ride. He was okay with that.

But Pete had loved Mikey with all his heart. Even if he wasn’t with him for a long time, or most of the time. He was in love with him and Gerard could tell. He hurt when he was not around him and was ecstatic when he was. He protected Mikey Way. Everyone protected Mikey. Everyone loved him and wanted to keep him safe.

But there was just one flaw in that plan. It was the fact that Gerard was his killer, his ultimate protector. His little brother had died to stay safe. But Pete didn’t know that and Pete would never understand that.

He didn’t know that Mikey was dead. But he was hurting because he was dead to him. He wanted to love Mikey, and little did he know that he would never be able to again. He would never see him awake again, see him alive again. He would always love him but he would never be loved by him.

Death was a cruel mistress and Gerard was her agent. Pete would never get to see his Mikey again.

Gerard hurt and didn’t want to think about that. But he would have to. He had to think about it. It was beating into his brain. He was a killer, this was his punishment.

Death was so absolute. There would never be any other chance for anything again. Mikey would never breath again, never blink again. Always sleeping, always fading away just bit by bit. He would be forgotten soon. He knew that he would.

He loved his brother, wanted to remember his brother. But he knew that even death had an end as long as it was pointed toward the living. Nobody would remember Mikey in a few years’ time. Nobody would know who he was when it was long past time for everyone who could have carried on his memory to die.

He would remember him for the rest of his fast life. He would remember him when he slept, when he regretted what he had done the most. He was going to remember him when there was nothing left to do but bathe in the blood.

He would remember him, know that he was a killer. Up in heaven he would be judging him, Gerard knew of it.

He would be afraid to die if his brother was going to be there to greet him in the afterlife. He didn’t want to see his eyes. He didn’t want to see the fact that he was still a murderer.

Gerard wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to make sure that he was nothing that Mikey could see of him. He wanted him to be over with. He wanted to be over with. If there was really an afterlife he was in for a lifetime of hurt to make up for this tortured euphoria.

He was sure that he would be killed in the afterlife by his loving brother for revenge. He was in for the wrath of everyone he had ever hurt. There would be never ending hurt when he died.

So he would never die.

But he still knew that he would be tortured in life with the fact that his brother was dead. That he was the one who had killed him. He would never be able to sleep unless he was dead and even then he was hesitant in the fact that he would be granted rest. He chose the fast life, he chose the life of a person who was taken with the wind.

He would never be able to forget the fact that he betrayed his brother.

His brother was his best friend. This was the ultimate sacrifice on both of their parts.

He killed him because he loved him, he would stay young forever, dying young, staying pure forever. No one would ever hate him. He was too good to hate, he was too pure to hate. Now he was more than human, more than his brother. He was in the stars now. He was a god now, good now.

He focused back on Pete again, he was going to have to concentrate if he wanted to sell the fact that he hadn’t killed his brother. He was going to have to keep himself in check. He tried not to stare at the blood that was drying on his carpet. He was trying not to look at what he had done.

He had to do it, he told himself that he had had to do it. He could try to live it up as much as possible, try to make it seem like it was something good, something that he had to do. But this was different. He was a murderer. There was nothing that could be made better, nothing he could think to make it better.

This was the darkest thing that he had ever done. This would stain him black, turn him into something that was dirty and bad. He was dirty and bad.

At least it was quick, swift. Brother gone before he could even breath a goodbye. He had killed him in one fell swoop. There was nothing left of him anymore, nothing that he was anymore. He was just a corpse, slowly rotting.

He told himself again, remembering that there was nothing he could do that could make it better. He would never be able to make it better. He was dead. Everyone hated Gerard. Or at least they would still.

Frank would still love him. And if he was lucky, Lyn-z would, too.

He felt weird with it there, his brother’s old body. But this was his house and nobody knew what he did, what he was doing, who he was. Nobody could have guessed that he was this brutal of a killer. Not even Pete anymore. He didn’t know how bad he was, how dirty he was.

He shook with the fact that he was a killer. No matter how many people he killed there was always gonna be the one that stopped him in his tracks. There was the first one, Natalie, she was the one that was the first to linger on his mind. Since he wasn’t used to the feeling of euphoria he had, he was shocked about her death.

And then there was Mikey. Mikey, whose pure brutality of the death had shocked him. He was a brutal murderer when he killed on his own, he was finding.

He had held a man’s hand as he died. But that was when Frank killed. He was made to be the softer of the two. But when he was without Frank he was as brutal as he could get.

Lyn-z, no matter how misconstrued her idea of him was, it hit the nail on the head when it came to brutality. She knew that he was a killer, a murderer, a savage, violent, being that could not be held by anyone’s perceptions. He was a killer and he was the best at it. He was a murderer and he was made for it.

But he would always be softer than Frank was. There would always be something thinner about him, something more diluted than Frank. But he was still brutal, could be brutal. As much as he wanted to be. Gerard was a murderer who would make any other person shrink away from it.

Nobody knew what he did, who he was. Who he _really_ was. And when Mikey found out, he had to die. He was a killer. A killer. If anyone else found out they would have to die. It was that simple. He would kill the whole world if they found out one by one. He would kill them all to get to Frank.

He had to get to Frank. He was the reason he did all this. It would be silly to not get him back. He needed to get him back. He was the reason for everything. He was his everything.

He let himself turn back to Pete, talk back to Pete. He had to make sure that he didn’t think he was a killer of his lover. But he was getting desperate, and not just because Frank’s trial was coming up.

He didn’t want anyone to find him, didn’t want anyone to get to him, to know who he was. He needed to get his body out of there, but he knew that it would be tricky. Lyn-z would help him.

“Please, Pete. I need to get Frankie. Now! I need to get him now, they’ll hurt him if I don’t.” He was near hysterics. Pete couldn’t know. God, damn it he had to calm down, Pete couldn’t know. If Gerard kept on like this he would find out what he did to Mikey and he wouldn’t help him. He was going to unravel if he couldn’t stretch himself in the right way.

Pete couldn’t understand, couldn’t know that he was a killer. Then everything would break apart. He would never get Frank back again. He had to get Frank back again. He had wasted his brother’s life for it. He had to get him back.

His brother’s body was waiting, sprawled out against the floor. His blood was everywhere. Pete didn’t know that the love of his life was dead. He didn’t know that he was brutally murdered by his brother. He didn’t have to know that he would never see him again, hold him again.

Lyn-z and him would take care of everything. He would never see Mikey again. Because he would have to be buried under the dirt, under the grass, under the secrets that Gerard was going to keep. He could never be seen by the outside world again, he would be kept again by his brother. He would always be his keeper.

He had let him do it. Mikey had let him kill him. It wasn’t his fault, he was just protecting his love. Mikey was in the way of that. And he had let himself die.

And besides, he wanted to die. He let Gerard kill him, let him slice his throat and let him bleed. So he felt no mercy for his brother. He felt nothing for his brother because he was as much a killer as he was anymore.

He let Gerard kill him and he would let Gerard kill many more. He was selfish. Just as selfish as Gerard. But he could still not look him in the eye, stare him in the face. He couldn’t deal with the fact that he was still dead. He didn’t want to have to. He loved his brother, he didn’t love corpses.

There was so much blood, so much blood everywhere. He didn’t want to think about it. He looked away from him. He would never be able to get it off the carpet. It was too soaked into it to be gotten out. He would never forget cutting through his brother. He would never forget the fact that he sliced so cleanly. He barely even made a sound when he died.

He glanced to his body. He couldn’t keep himself from doing it.

There was nothing that he could do that would pin his brother as suicide. His throat was slit. This was something of the New Jay’s. He could carve into his stomach if he wanted to.

But he wasn’t sure he would be able to stomach that.

But it would give him away if he didn’t write anything. No, he would rather hide the body. He would hide the body. He didn’t want to touch Mikey. He couldn’t make him do that. He couldn’t do that to him. His brother deserved better than his petty traditions.

He got an idea, something that would buy him so time if he really needed it. Something that could cover up the fact that he was the killer. He would have to hide Mikey. Hide the body. Nobody could know what he had done to his baby brother.

He would do that when he wasn’t talking to Pete. He couldn’t deal with the both of these things. He had to remember that Pete couldn’t know. He couldn’t know and he wouldn’t let him. This was ow it had to be. He would tell him after he got Frank, if he didn’t find out before then.

He shifted his mind back to what his friend was saying. He licked his lips and listened, trying to keep his eyes off his brother. He couldn’t look at him, couldn’t think of him. He was nothing anymore, he was dead to him, he was dead. He was dead and there was nothing he could do to get him back even if he wanted to.

There was nothing of him anymore. There was nothing of them. They were not brothers. They were just corpses. They were all corpses and Gerard was the conductor of their undead symphony. He felt sicker looking at him and the way he was lying there, eyes forever staring at the wall.

He would make sure that he got a good burial. That was the least he could do for his baby brother. He had protected him in the most selfish way, so he had to make up for it by making sure that his body was laid respectfully to rest.

He and Lyn-z would take care of it, he would show Lyn-z how to take care of it with him. She needed to know how to get rid of a body before she knew how to get rid of a person. Getting rid of the body and covering up the fact that _you_ killed them was the most important thing to know when one started to kill. She couldn’t be leaving a messy trail, not his protégé. And besides, this would show him how she worked under pressure. This would be her first test, the most important test, but the easiest one. If she was really serious about this.

He kept away from him, how he looked, how he laid. He was a body now, nothing more than a martyr. He didn’t need to give a body attention. He wouldn’t need to think about him anymore. He was the past, Frank was his future. His true future, if he could just get to him.

“Pete! It’s time to act,” he told the receiver, the friend who was waiting patiently, trying not to rush into anything. He didn’t want to seem as desperate as he was.

But he was beginning to itch to get out of that place, beginning to feel as if he was really a killer. This was something that would bite him in the ass. His brother was lying there, dead, and anybody could walk in on him, if he was so unfortunate. If they were so unfortunate.

He was a killer now, for real. Before it was just a game, just something to keep him occupied. Now it was something that he did, something that defined him. He was a killer. He was Gerard and he was a murderer. There was no separating that now. There was only the person that Frank turned him into. There was nothing left of the man he used to be. There would never be anything left of the person he used to be, when he got Frank and they went away for good.

He couldn’t risk his new life. He had made the jump and now he just had to make the getaway.

Armani couldn’t get him, she couldn’t find him again. He had to make sure that they got away. He didn’t want to be stuck here, as a shell of the person he once was. There was nothing left for him. Mikey was holding him back. Now there was nothing.

He was nothing and Gerard was everything. He needed to get Frank back if he wanted to fulfill what he was now. He had to live the life he had fought for now. This was what he was doing now. He was a killer, he had fought to be a killer. He had murdered his brother so he could be a killer, he had to make his death mean something, mean anything to him.

This was his test for Frank, to prove to him truly that he was what he wanted him to be. He would get him back now, Frank would want to be retrieved by him. He was worthy now. He was going to be loved by him now, he was going to be loved again.

He could not wait to get Frank back, to be wanted by someone again.

He would be happy now, later, whenever. He just had to get Frank back, he was the piece to the puzzle. He was the key to his happiness.

He had done everything for Frank. He killed his brother for Frank. And this was his chance to get him back, one of his last. He was rotting away in a jail cell because Gerard couldn’t deliver on getting him back to him. He just wanted to get him back to him.

He didn’t care that he was getting a little antsy. He didn’t care that Pete thoguth he was being rash. He had to get Frank back. He had to make it better and tell him that he was still loved, that he was still good.

He had to get him back because he was the best thing to ever happen to him and he was not ready to give that up just yet. He was terrified of losing him in the fray, he was barely holding on. The blood that was on his hands kept making him slip away.

He felt like he was losing him even more now. The bruises were gone and there was nothing left of them. There was nothing but the scar and the body that Gerard could not bear to look at.

That was another thing, if he didn’t act quickly, people would get suspicious that he and Mikey were not going anywhere, not leaving their house for days. People would know that he killed him. Hell, Armani probably already pieced it together with his luck.

She would come and look for Mikey and everyone would know that he was the killer. Then he wouldn’t be able to get Frank back. He would never be able to get Frank back if they knew who he was. He needed to keep the secret. There was just a few more days before the big reveal, they would know then. They could know then.

He had to get Frank back. He would die for Frank, he had died for him. He couldn’t lose him now.

“Gerard, we don’t have a plan. We don’t have anything!” he said.

Gerard bit the bullet and swallowed the pill that he knew was coming. He hadn’t thought about how he would get Frank back, he was just sure that he would get him back. He didn’t want to have to fix this, he wanted Frank to fix everything but he couldn’t. He wasn’t here anymore and he wouldn’t fix everything like he used to.

He just wanted Frank to fix it. He was always the leader of the two, he was the one to call the shots. Gerard let him. Gerard wanted him to be. He didn’t want to have to save Frank. He had never done it before.

“We don’t need anything. I’ve gotten him out before on a half assed idea,” he pointed out to him. He was hard headed about this. He just wanted to get Frank back as soon as possible so he could take over again and get them out of there.

He missed his skin, missed the way he felt and how he tasted. He just wanted him, just wanted him to be near to him. He wanted to hold his hand again. He cared so much about him that he was breaking apart.

He was forgetting the way his skin felt against his, the way he looked when he slept. He just wanted to be with him again. His heart ached and he wasn’t sure it had beat in weeks.

Pete clicked his tongue and Gerard could hear him roll his eyes. “I don’t care about that, Gerard. He’s set for trial in a few days. He’s going to be heavily guarded.” Pete was always right, he was always the one to keep Frank and him in place.

“Pete, I need to get him!” he screeched. He could sense his brother was looking at him from across the room, slit throat rising one last time for him to stare at him. He wanted to kill him again. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, alone with his love of Frank with no one judging him. He wanted to burn his brother’s body in spite. He didn’t want to have to look at him anymore. He didn’t want to have to deal with him.

He knew that he was laughing, even in heaven he was laughing at him. He felt anger at his brother, at everyone who could see him when he was weak. He didn’t want to be without Frank. He was lesser without Frank.

He scowled and listened to what Pete was saying. He couldn’t look at his body. He didn’t want to look at his body. He was a killer. Pete couldn’t know about that.

“We still have tomorrow. What are we gonna do, Gee? What are we gonna do tomorrow?” he asked in his calm and correct voice. He was the levelheaded one. Gerard couldn’t live with a body anymore. He couldn’t live with this thing anymore. He scowled at him and gritted his teeth. He was a killer, a murderer. He had to keep as level a head as Pete could.

Frank was level headed. He had to act like him. He paid attention to what Pete was saying, but he still maintained his stance of staring at Mikey.

He had to make it look like he was killed by The New Jay and then he would get the fuck out of there. He had someone to cover for him. He could get someone to cover for him. Nobody could know that he did this, it would ruin what he had planned. He wouldn’t be the innocent anymore. He would just be another killer. He debated whether or not he would do that, honestly. His brother didn’t need his body mutilated, he couldn’t do that to him.

But he had to make it look like he was innocent, like he was still a person who could be trusted and had been taking hostage. So he couldn’t let anyone know that he killed his baby brother.

Innocence was what he was known for. It was the thing that left him shining in the blood. There was nothing for him if he wasn’t the innocent one. There was nothing for him if he wasn’t the best one.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. _Don’t stare at the body._ He wasn’t even calling it by Mikey’s name anymore. His brother was too good for this plane, destined to die. There was nothing of him anymore. He was in the sky. He was taken away by Gerard and now he was away. He was gone, dead.

He was in the sky and he was looking down at Gerard. There would be acid rain soon enough. He would be punished soon enough. He was laughing at him. He was hating him, wherever he was, in the realm of the doves.

He took a gulp and started making plans with Pete. He would deal with his body later. He had to make it look like The Jay did it. Or at least hide him.

Nobody saw him come home, no one save Mikey. But we know what happened to him. He would make it seem like he was killed by the New Jay, just to save his skin if he really needed to. If it came down to it.

This was just a precaution. Something that would make sure that his secret was safe, just for a little while longer.

Gerard and Pete started making plans, Gerard offering something to his friend and Pete saying something else that was of use. It went back and forth till Gerard had forgotten his brother’s body, till there was nothing but him and Pete talking on the phone, deciding when and how he would get his lover back. He could not wait to get his lover back.

They were going to get Frank out the next day, early in the morning when everyone was just getting started, changing shifts. They would hit when it would be most confusing. They knew how to hit, how it would be the best course of action.

They were going to save his lover, save his darling man. He was going to see him again. He was going to hold him again. He could not wait for him. But he would have to, he would have to hold himself over for just one more day.

He had Pete hung up after getting it all set up. And Gerard decided that he would talk to Lyn-z about whether or not she wanted to clean up this body and help him out with this. He would have to get her to help, take it away and do the grunt work. He knew that she would be more than happy to help him out with that.

She was going to be a good help, it was a shame that he couldn’t take her along with him. She was a good helper, a definite asset. Maybe he could talk to Frank about going back or letting her come to them to visit. They could fuck about in wherever they were going and kill everyone. What a blast it would be. They could be friends, he could take this girl under his wing.

Frank had done the same for him, maybe he could continue the legacy. That would be a novel idea. And he was sure that Frank would like her, too. But he was unpredictable.

He could hate Lyn-z, hate her enough to kill her. She was in love with Gerard, maybe he would get jealous. He didn’t want that to happen, she was too nice to die. He needed a friend who wasn’t Pete, who wasn’t Frank.

He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He just wanted someone to be his friend, someone who could take care of him in ways that Frank couldn’t. She could be his friend.

They could talk when Frank and him couldn’t. He needed her, even if she was a little annoying and eager.

He wouldn’t tell him that she was in love with him. He would let her know what was going on when they disposed of Mikey. He knew that Frank would kill her if she showed even half of the affection she had for him now. It would be key to her survival that she was subtle about how much she actually liked him, how she actually liked him.

But it would be nice to see Frank a little jealous. It would be interesting to see if he would actually get offended. He hoped that he would. He wanted to see his blood boil for his baby. It would be nice to be wanted, nice to be needed. He would truly know that Frank wanted him, that he loved him.

It would be nice. But it would also be deadly. For Lyn-z. She would die by his hand if she mentioned what he was to her. What he could never think of her as.

She would die just with telling Frank that she loved him. He had to keep her alive so they could hang out, be friends. He would go crazy if he spent the rest of his life with only Frank and his thoughts. He needed someone that was there for him and that he could be there for.

Even if she needed to be let down gently about the fact that he would never love her. He knew that she wanted him but his heart belonged to Frank. It was as easy as that.

It would always be Frank’s. Always be something that was so easy, coming so naturally. He was Frank’s and he wanted to stay that way forever.

He was scared of the fact that Frank might not care, that he might not even notice that Lyn-z was in love with him if she said so.

He wanted him to care, wanted him to notice when he was about to be taken away from him. He didn’t want to end up like a companion. He didn’t want to just be a partner in crime. He wanted Frank to love him and he wanted to love Frank.

He was terrified of the fact that he was probably going to be left with Frank not even looking twice at the fact that Lyn-z was in love with him.

His heart ached at that. He needed Frank to love him. He wanted Frank to love him. He wanted him to want him to the point of murder.

He didn’t know if he would have to gain that back or if he would have it right off the bat again. He was getting the sinking suspicion that he would have to regain Frank’s trust, that he would have to regain his love.

He was sure that they would never be the same again. That even after Frank choked him and he called Pete, things were going to be different between them.

Things were always changing, always shifting. One kill to the next, one glance to the next. They were always moving, always pulsating with new hatred for new things. That was what kept them going, their hatred. He knew that they weren’t built on the best of love but they made the best out of said love.

Even if it was killing people, even if it was hurting them. They did it with love for each other.

Love that Gerard was beginning to fear was dwindling. He was terrified of being alone because he already was and he would never be able to handle that forever. He was barely even able to handle it now.

He needed Frank, he needed Frank in his arms, on his skin. He wanted to feel him, wanted to love him. He was the love of his life, he just wanted to be loved by him, too. He just wanted to be with him and have him.

But he knew that Frank would not let it come easy. He knew that even if Gerard had killed Mikey for him he still had to regain his love and trust because he had lost it when he sold him out. He had lost it when he wanted to run away again. He was faced with his actions.

He knew that Frank would still be punishing him for what he had done, for how much he had disobeyed and betrayed. He knew that he would be on thin ice.

But he just wanted to be what they were before. He wanted to love him like he did before. He wanted to care and to hold him. He knew that he could be a better lover, if Frank would just give him the chance to make himself, to prove himself, a better lover. He wasn’t bad, he didn’t want to be bad. He loved Frank with all his heart. He loved him with his entire soul.

He wanted to love him, wanted to hold him. He had killed for him. And he would kill again for him. He just wanted him to love him. He just wanted him to want him as much as he wanted him.

He knew that that was too much to ask for when he was an unruly and undeserving servant. But he yearned for his touch and the validation that he gave him.

He wanted him to love him and he wanted to be loved by him. He was so sorry for everything had done to Frank. He felt terrible for all the pain that he had caused him. He was sure that he was so uncomfortable in his jail cell.

It was not his fault that Pete was taking an extra day to plan this when they didn’t need to. He could take care of it. Him and Frank could be happier soon, and longer if Gerard was to go in there and save his lover like he was sure that he would.

He missed him so much. He just wanted to be with him so much.

He didn’t know why he had to wait another day. He didn’t know why Pete was putting the two lover’s through this agony. He didn’t want to go through this anymore.

He just wanted to be with Frank. He just wanted to be with him again.

He missed him, the way he felt. He was sure that the sooner he got him back the sooner Frank would love and trust him again.

He knew that he was probably stewing in his hatred for Gerard now and every day that went by there was more bitterness added to the mix. He just wanted to be loved again.

He had done everything for Frank. He would do anything for Frank. And he wanted to show him that! He wanted him to know that he loved Frank more than Frank loved him.

But Frank would love him soon enough. Frank would love him when Gerard proved that he could be loved. By getting him out of prison.

He knew that he didn’t love him anymore, now. But in a few days, when Gerard got him out. He was sure that he would be loved!

After all the things that he had done, he was sure that this would make up for it. At least a little bit.

But he didn’t want to think about the bad times. He didn’t want to think about the fact that his brother was dead and the man he did it for wasn’t even by his side yet. He wasn’t even sure if Frank loved him anymore, as we’ve seen in the last few lines of the last few paragraphs, reader. But he was sure that he would get him back, that he would make him love him soon enough. As long as he could get him out of prison quick enough.

They were running out of time! His trial was in a few days! He would get shipped off and then it would be even harder to get to him. What happened if they couldn’t get to him in time and he was lost all the way across the country? Somewhere where Gerard couldn’t get to him?

He tried to dispel those thoughts from his mind, taking them out along with the thoughts of his brother. He didn’t need to think about those things because they weren’t relevant to his happiness or his plan anymore. He had to stay optimistic about this. He had to make sure that he was looking on the Brightside.

He was going to get Frank out of jail and they were going to be happy, no matter what. He was going to be happy with Frank no matter what. The only person standing in his way was his brother, and his brother was dead. And he was going to be happy with Frank. He was going to be happy with Frank.

He smiled to himself and didn’t think of his brother, tried not to think of his brother and let himself think of his plans for Lyn-z, his plans for Frank. He would take care of his brother’s body with her. Frank would be impressed by him spearheading a kill. He knew that he would love him more when he learned that he could hold his own.

He didn’t look to Mikey, Lyn-z would handle that. She would make sure that he was under the dirt in a place where no one would look. He would help, of course but this was her test. This was what she was going to do to prove that she was a killer, too. He would have an assistant of his own. She would be his helper, his friend, his confidant.

Frank had had him, it was about time he had someone for himself that he could talk to. He knew that Frank might not like that. But he would take any friend that he would get. He needed someone besides Frank. And besides, he needed an accessory. He didn’t like cleaning up alone.

He would have to stare his brother in the eye if he cleaned up alone.  He would have to scrub the blood from the carpet with nothing else to occupy him besides himself. He didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t want to only have the silence fill his ears while he was cleaning up a corpse. Especially if it was his brother’s.

He had never really cleaned up a body before besides the time that Frank made him help. But after that he broke down. He wondered if it would be harder or easier seeing as he had done it before but it was still his brother. He wondered if he would break down like he had before.

Now he wouldn’t have Frank to help him through it, not till tomorrow and there was no room for breakdowns tomorrow. He had to break him out of prison.

He only had Lyn-z if he started to get upset. He would only have this girl who was wildly in love with him and who he had met only days before help him take care of a body and his emotional flare ups.

Tonight was not his night. But he hoped that his luck turned around when they went to get Frank. He hoped that he could still be a person by the time he went to find his lover again.

Frank would make everything better when he had him. Frank would make him feel so much more better.

He didn’t want to be like this, he didn’t want to be weak. But he had to. He had to be weak so Frank could be strong. He didn’t want this to happen. He didn’t want this to go on like this. He was so tired of being the leader, of being his own person.

He just wanted Frank back. He just wanted to love him again. He was so desperate for anything, anyone.

He would settle with Lyn-z for tonight, even though he really needed his Frank. He knew that she didn’t compare to Frank, that she would never compare but she was better than nothing. She was better than him being left alone with his thoughts and his brother’s corpse. He didn’t want to learn what would happen if he had to clean up this body and get Frank out of prison tomorrow.

He didn’t think that he could handle either of which he was going to be doing. That was why he had to have Lyn-z.

She would help him put his brother into his car and down to the park where they would dispose of him. They would make sure that he was packed nice and tightly into the ground. She would make sure that Gerard didn’t go off the rails and hurt someone, hurt himself.

He didn’t want to do anymore killing for a very long time, that was for sure. He wanted everything to settle down for at least a few hours before he had to stir up trouble again.

He looked to Mikey’s corpse again. He couldn’t cut up his little brother’s body. He never could. So he was going to let himself hide him away in the ground.

He didn’t want anyone to find Mikey for a very long time. They would never find Mikey, if he could help it.

But he couldn’t. So he was going to leave her and himself with the task of hiding him, even if it was temporary.

He wondered how many people would wonder within the first few days, where Mikey was. He wondered if anyone would care about his little brother in death besides him and Pete.

He wanted to keep his thought alive, but that would mean sending himself to jail. And before all these bad things happened, it would mean protecting him in a way that didn’t result in murder.

He could have sent him away, never let him know in the first place. But that was Pete who told him. He knew it was Pete who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

But he wanted him to be alive. He wanted to be happy and have his brother alive, but he would never get what he wanted. So in the ground his baby brother would go. In the ground to be found weeks after Gerard was gone with Frank, to a place unknown. Nobody would know that he was a killer because they would never find him.

It was getting dark and nobody would see them if they were to smuggle the body down the landing and into his car. They could bury his brother and nobody would find him. He could run away with Frank and then they would know what he was. It was a good idea, he just had to have Lyn-z to implement it.

So he called her. “Lyn-z? It’s your lucky day,” Gerard said.

He heard Lyn-z squeal in excitement. “I just got off of work!” she said, excitedly.

“Get over here. Are you ready for your first lesson?” he asked with a smirk into the receiver. He was forgetting the way his brother sounded when they talked, all hours of the night for years. He was forgetting the ways his eyes shined and the way his breath curled when it was cold outside.

He was forgetting his brother. Correction, he had already forgotten him.


	14. Dream Come True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hey! Hey! So I didn't have internet for a week and decided since I just got it back I'll update this chapter and wait a week to add the other one that I had written if that makes sense. Really you're just getting a chapter this week, okay?

Lyn-z jumped with excitement, jittery and ready for her true calling. She was going to get to kill with Gerard. He was going to let her help him. She was so excited! This was her dream come true, this was the best thing that she would ever do.

It was the one thing that she had ever wanted to do. She was going to live, she was going to be happy as a killer. She was going to realize her dream for the first time in her life. She was so close to it, she was so near to what she wanted to do. She just had to get to him, get to Gerard.

She was going to be someone that she had wanted to be in her darkest fantasies for ages. She was going to be a murderer. She was so close. She was so close.

She was going to see what it was like to take a life. She was going to know what it was like to hurt someone so they died. She was going to hurt people.

Her heart curled in the most deliciously evil manner. She was going to make people hurt. And she was going to be loved for it, adored for it by people who were like her, by Gerard. She couldn’t have asked for a better person to come into her life. This was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She was going to be a killer!

She was getting everything that she had ever wanted from him. He was going to kill with her. They were going to be on top of the world, she could forget about Frank for the time being. There was nothing that could stop her from feeling good. There was nothing that could take her away from feeling like she was the best.

She had to get to him, she had to get to him, kill with him. She was going to be the best. They were going to be the best. She couldn’t wait.

Her heart beat faster as she shoved her phone back in her pocket. It pumped against her chest, dying to get out to make its way to Gerard. Her entire body seemed to be splitting apart with the fact that she was going to be with him. That was what this meant, he was testing her to kill with him.

That meant that he wanted her. He wanted her, she knew it.

Ever since she had first seen him, not even on the television, but on purpose, she had known that they were meant for each other. It was the look that he gave her that made her know that he was the one.

Before that, she had been sure, of course. But this was different. A shock went through her body, love went through her body. That was the first time that she had ever dealt with that. She had never known love before. She had never known anything but indifference towards others. This was the first time that she had felt love.

She wanted to sing, she wanted to dance! Gerard wanted her. Gerard wanted to kill with her, to run away with her.

She knew that he loved Frank but she was still the one that was on his mind. She wanted to be the only one on his mind.

She loved him so much it hurt to be away from him. From the day she met him, she had felt a dull aching in her body. She wanted him so badly.

Even if she didn’t want to kill, even if she wasn’t homicidal, she would want to be with him. He was the coolest, the best and the sweetest. She was so in love with him.

She didn’t even want to have her first lesson, this wasn’t about that. She was going to hang out with him! She was just going to be with him, at least for a little while, and that was the worthwhile part.

But that brought her to the killing part, to the death part. She was going to be a killer with him. She was going to be the best thing, the only thing. She was going to be what she always wanted, in the depths of her heart. She wanted to kill.

She wanted to hurt. She had to get to him. He would help her, he would kill with her. She was going to be so good for him, so good to him.

She was so grateful, so excited. She just had to be a killer. She just had to.

Her heart beat quickened when she heard his words. She was going to be a killer!

She squealed, feet flying up as she danced around with excitement. Her arms flailed in the air. She had never been this excited about anything in her whole life! She was going to kill! Gerard was going to let her kill, help her kill. She was going to be a murderer! And her favorite murderer would help her sort it out.

Her lip was bit, blood coming out in a little well of red between the skin. She couldn’t let up, she would scream in excitement if she let the lip go. She couldn’t let herself get too ahead, but she was just so excited!

She was going to get to help him! Him! Gerard Way, murderer of the Century! This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. And she definitely did not want to disappoint him. She needed to get over there as soon as possible. She jumped, knowing that she was probably keeping him waiting by thinking about this. She didn’t want to keep him waiting, she didn’t want him to change his mind. She wanted to do this, she wanted to kill with him. She was not going to let this opportunity go.

She shoved her phone in her pocket and was ready to make her way out the door. She was going to kill. She was going to kill!

She looked at herself, knowing that she looked alright to go somewhere, wherever she was going. She didn’t look like a total mess, with sweatpants on and no bra. She was still dressed from work, and she could go see Gerard right away.

It was like fate knew that she didn’t have to get undressed because she was just going to get back out of her apartment. This was destined to be.

She twirled and put on a coat, body hot at the thought of a corpse to take care of. She had seen plenty of those, but to know Gerard had killed this one, it made it all the more better. It would taste all the more sweeter in her mouth, seeing the body. She was so excited! So excited.

She had seen murdered people, dead and bloated and blue. She had craved the want to be the person behind the crime, to be the one to get rid of them from this mortal coil. She wanted to know what it was like to make people hurt. She had stood there next to Armani, everyone taking notes, and she had hid the fact that she wanted to kill.

She always hid it well before Gerard, there was always the fact that she never told anyone. She had never wanted anyone to know her dirty little secret before, but it was time. She knew to tell Gerard, he was the one that really ignited it.

Every time she thought about him, she knew the nagging in the back of her head would start. _Kill, kill, kill._ It made her listen, eating away at her thoughts till they were the only ones left. She would kill eventually, they knew.

But she did not, not till she met Gerard. She couldn’t have put that into action till she met him, talked to him. She would kill with him, fate told her to. They had brought them together, they were going to be together forever. Fate said so. Fate was right, fate was true. She was a killer. And she was in love with Gerard.

That was why she had to kill. She would kill for him, she would kill for love. But nobody needed to know that, she would get in trouble if they knew that. Gerard wasn’t guilty right now so she wouldn’t either, this was a free pass to kill.

But still she got nervous about it. She got worried and itchy feeling. Right now, as she was walking out into the cold and dark, she was met with the fact that she was doing something bad, something illegal.

She would never be able to live again. She would never be normal again. She had to make up her mind. And she decided that she would never go back to what she used to be, afraid and hidden. She needed to do this, she needed to be free. He was going to make her free.

She was going to make him proud because she owed him that much. Gerard made her into what she was. Gerard was the only thing that she was. He was what she wanted to be. And that was a bad thing and she knew that it was.  That was why that she had kept it hidden. That was why she was so glad, and so scared shitless that it got out. That Gerard let it out for her.

She loved him. He would take care of everything once they were out of this shithole. He would make sure that she could kill, that they all could kill. Even if they couldn’t here. They would kill somewhere else, somewhere better.

With a glance around, nervous as if she had a target on her forehead, she headed out, getting into her car to go and see what Gerard wanted her to do. She had never let her love for killing be this open. She felt like she was naked, alone in this world. But she knew that Gerard would be there for her. That he would help her get out of there. She just knew that he had her back; he loved her.

She knew that he would be with her, they would be together and they would kill together but there was a kink in her plan that made her hesitant. There was something that made her stop and think when she had time to herself alone. She hated being alone, the night was too long. She was itching to go somewhere and she was so happy when Gerard called her to come to him. He was her savior, he would always be.

But there was Gerard and there was Frank. And Frank was the kink in her master plan. They knew who she was. They were like her. They were killers like him. They were murderers together and she would be with them soon. They would wreak havoc on the world. They would be somebodies. But Frank had Gerard. And she wanted him. She wanted her lover, didn’t he know that she could love Gerard better than he could?

But he had gotten Gerard started. He was to Gerard as Gerard was to Lyn-z. She couldn’t compete with that. Yet.

But she had to be the best that she could be so that he would fall in love with her in an instant. And that meant handling a dead body, taking care of a dead body. She wasn’t sure that she would be better than Frank in that respect. This was her first time taking care of something like this. But at least she had seen them before, at least she wouldn’t be squeamish.

She would take care of it and she would try as best as she could. But she could make no promises. This was her first time doing anything like this. She was sure that she wouldn’t run away, but the job might be done sloppily. And she couldn’t have that, Gerard would only love her if she acted like she had done this before, if she did a good job. She had to do good because that was the only way that he would love her. She just wanted him to love her.

She thought to all the bodies that she had seen, all the people that had died and she had to stand and watch as others took care of them, moved their carcass in a black bag, shiny with death and decay. She knew what they looked like. But she never really knew what they felt like.

She always kept herself away from the morgue, she wondered what she would find about herself in all of the silence. She didn’t want to know, but Gerard took care of that. He yanked it out of her. He would make her into something good, something lovable. She knew that he would, she just had to let him teach her, let him do his thing.

And that meant that she had to learn how to take care of a dead body, that wasn’t hard, now, was it?

The part of her that still wanted to hide the murderer was nodding their head. They were so afraid of knowing the joy of killing. They were terrified of what it meant to hurt, to slice, to bleed out. It put a ball in the middle of her stomach, she wasn’t going to make it out of this test with his heart if she kept feling like that.

She gulped. Knowing that she was going to handle a body was something new to her. They had people that did that. Even if she had seen one there was still the fact that she had never touched them, gone and alone in their death. She didn’t want to know what she was like when she had a dead body, she was terrified of the power that she would gain. But she craved it, she really did.

She knew that she would never touch anything so cold. She knew that she would never be faced with something so singular and desolate. She was terrified of what she might find in the abyss of a corpse. She didn’t want to fall into the void that was a dead body. She didn’t want to know what it was like, but she did.

She was stuck between wanting to know, yearning to know and the fact that she was too scared to jump. She was too scared to want to make the move, but she would push herself, she would make Gerard push her, take her to the place that he had fallen into so easily. He was so good at killing. He would know what to do with her. He would keep her safe.

But she was terrified of more than just that. She was going to meet with something illegal. She was something illegal, she was a murderer.

She was doing something illegal, something exceptionally illegal. She could get arrested for this. That seemed to only heighten the happiness that was coursing through her, the adrenaline that was like a party in her veins, a storm. She was being shaped into something that she always wanted to be. She was being called to action by the man she loved, she wouldn’t dally. She wouldn’t want to make him mad. She knew that she would lose her opportunity to be what she wanted to be. She had to be what she wanted to be, she was choking. But she would be choking if she didn’t get to him.

He could kill her, just as easily as he could kill that person. She shivered. He was a murderer, obviously. And she was just about to realize how brutal he really was. She had no idea, even if she had been studying him for as long as he had been famous. She hadn’t figured it out, not yet. She didn’t know him, not yet.

She had seen it on paper, in files about what The New Jay was doing. She had seen it but only when it was something that was tangible to the average person. She had never witnessed it as someone who was a part of it. She had never seen it happening right in front of her. She just knew that he was bad. How bad was still a mystery.

She just knew that he loved to kill. That he loved to kill and he didn’t want to give that up. She knew that he would do anything to keep it. That was why it was so amazing. She wanted to know what it was like to not want to lose anything. She wanted to know what it was like to kill.

It would be something amazing, something beautiful. She wanted to know. She yearned to know. Gerard was so lucky to have somebody to show him. And she was so lucky to have him to show her what he was doing.

It must have been amazing to be able to kill, to have the capacity and the courage to get rid of someone’s life. She didn’t know if she could ever do it. Even though she had wanted to do ever since she could stomach thinking about it, age thirteen and lying in bed, hating herself. But she wanted to, Lord, did she want to. Ever since she was a little girl, sitting in the pit of her stomach was this need. She craved it with all her heart, killing, wielding death to her advantage. She had hated herself for it when she was younger, but Gerard understood. She understood now. She was going to do this and she was going to love it. Who cared if anyone was hurt? Who cared if she was the one to hurt them?

She was tired of being small. But she was terrified of being any larger than she was accustomed to. She would have to get used to it. Even if it terrified her, even if it made her quiver and made her stomach knot up in fear. She thought about it now, knowing that she was still scared shitless. She didn’t care, she was going to kill. She was going to kill even though it made her want to throw up with the amount of pressure that seemed to lace itself into her blood.

But she would do it for him. Because she loved him. She loved him with all her heart and wanted nothing more than him to think that she was cool. To think that she was someone like him. She wanted to be someone like him, to be someone that he could trust. She just wanted to be one of the people that you read about, the ones that turned into legends. She wanted to go down in history, to have people know her name and shiver at her crimes. She wanted to be feared.

She was going to kill, for Gerard. For fame, for glory. She was going to kill and she was going to stop worrying and just love the act of murder. She needed to let go of her morals. She wasn’t made to have them, she was instilled with them when she became friends with Armani.

She didn’t need Armani, she didn’t need the law. She just needed death and murder and all the blood that came with taking a life. She needed to not care about what her friend, Armani, upstanding citizen and moralist, would think about what she was doing. She needed to not care about the fact that she was a murderer. She would have to be proud of it, Gerard would teach her how to be proud of it.

Because she was, because she wanted to be. She wanted to be a killer. She just needed someone to help her. She just needed someone to guide her in the ways of what she had to do. She was lucky to have Gerard, lucky that they met at a time where he was feeling generous enough to help her. She would have fallen flat if not for him, she probably wouldn’t have fulfilled herself if she didn’t meet him.

She had an amazing opportunity and she was going to kill with him and she was going to stop having all these fears. She had dreamed about this for years, ever since she knew what death really was and it wasn’t this giant, terrifying enigma. She had loved it even then, the blackness that came with it. She didn’t like the fact that people could see how dirty she got when it came to death.

She had learned as she grew older that murder was power, that she could use it to her advantage. She shouldn’t be afraid of it. But she was, when she was a baby. When she was but a child. She quivered away from the power that she could have had. But now she knew that she was destined for it, meant for it. She shouldn’t try to fight it. She was going to have to use it to her advantage. She wasn’t made for being nice to people. She was made for murder and murder she would do.

She had started in the police force to help people and now she just wanted to make them suffer herself. She had seen death and she knew, right after she started seeing the gruesome shit, that she could be a good killer. That she knew how to do it and that she knew how the police thought.

She saw the fear in the eyes of her coworker and she breathed the fear into her lungs and loved it. She would feed off the death of a person, thrive off of it. She knew that she would have all she needed when they died. When she killed them. She knew that she would strike fear into everyone else when she killed. She knew that everyone else was afraid of death, too.

She wanted to be a legend, she wanted fear to be the reason she lived. She wanted people to know that she thrived off of people locking their doors or tucking their children extra firmly into bed at night. She was going to be remembered because why could something so gruesome ever be forgotten?

She didn’t want to fade away as any other person. She wanted to know what it was like. She wanted to know what it was like to take a life. She wanted to be known for that. She was going to go down in history, she was going to be a legend for this.

She would never truly die. She would ascend into the next life and people would still know her name, tell her story. They would let her live on, fuel the fire of her life. She was going to everything and everywhere. She was going to love it. She was going to live off of it.

Killing would make her know what being a god was like, being a decider of fate. That was always too much for people to handle, but she craved it. She wished for the power of a deity. She knew that she would turn into something better, something good, only because once people aquatinted fear with her she was no longer a person, she was no longer a killer. She was an idea. She was something that existed to make people fear the night.

She would do her job well and she would feel the flames lick at her when she went to hell. She would love knowing that she was still somebody after she was gone even if she didn’t have a body. She was going to be the best killer that she could be. She was going to be so good that she lived on.

She wanted to know the thrill that went along with the power of death. She was going to be something wonderful. She knew that she was going to be great. That she could be made great. Gerard must have known that she had potential.

And he could help her. She could be like him, if she wanted to be. He wanted her to be like him. He was going to take the time to teach her. He was going to take care of her, make her something great. She was going to be a legend.

He was going to help her be what he was. He was going to make her a murderer, shape her into something good. She was going to be what she always wanted to be. She was going to be amazing, something wonderful made only by the death of other people. She was going to be something beautiful because of something so disgusting. She was made of something burning, black, done for.

She couldn’t wait. She wanted to get there as soon as possible so she could help and start her training. She was not going to miss this. She wasn’t going to done for by her own dillydallying. She was going to make sure that she was made of darkness by the time she was finished here. She was already spun of grey matter. She wasn’t a pale soul like anyone else.

But she was still selfless, still in love with Gerard. She would always be in love with him, he was going to be the only thing left. She knew it. He was the best thing that ever happened to her.

He was going to love her, even if he loved Frank more. He was going to want her, at some point in time, he was going to want her to be with him.

She wanted to be with him. She wanted to be like him. She loved him so much, she ust wanted to emulate him and what he was. He was a killer and she always wanted to be like him. She wanted to be a killer, she wanted to be the best killer, remorseful and amazing. She didn’t want to be a slave to her emotions.

She didn’t want to have to quit what she was doing because she was scared or guilty. She wanted to kill forever. She wanted to murder forever. She was going to be good and she was going to be ruthless. She was going to be just like Gerard and she was going to love it.

She knew that she could be good, that she had thought about it too much to not be. She had wondered what it was like her whole life. She wasn’t going to turn back, she wasn’t going to go back. She was going to kill! Gerard was going to teach her how to kill.

She was going to overcome being human. She was going to be a god. She was going to make herself a god, a legend. She was on her way to being one, Gerard was going to make her one. She just needed to let herself go. She would still love him, and that was the important part. She would always love him. She was supposed to be a killer, of course she was. She wouldn’t have instantly loved Gerard if she wasn’t supposed to be. She was going to be so good to him, so good. She was so excited for this.

She was so excited, she could barely contain herself. She floored it without even knowing that she was, going a few miles over the speedlimit. She was so excited for what she was about to do. She didn’t even really know who he had killed.

She didn’t care. She was going to see a dead body, feel a dead body, and touch the clammy hands of a corpse. This would be the first time that she would caress death as a sensation, she was going to be changed forever. And she wanted to make sure that it would not be the last. She wanted to make sure it was the best. She knew if she had amazing beginnings, she would have a fantastic ending.

She didn’t want to go out with anything but a bang. If she had to die, she would die for the art, for the cause that was killing, that was murder. She was in the making to be something beautiful. She didn’t want to go out as anything but. She wanted to live as a killer, to die as a killer.

She was going to kill even if it killed her and she didn’t even care if it would. She had nothing to live for besides murder. Murder and Gerard. She would love him forever, love him even if he was the one to killer her. She would be something amazing, she knew that she would be.

And he was going to leave. He was going to leave her all alone. She wouldn’t have that. She had to get to him before he left her, nipping everything that was perfect away from her. She as going to be perfect, be made perfect again. She was going to be something amazing.

She felt a jealous rage at Frank. He got to have something good. He got to have Gerard. He didn’t even deserve him. He didn’t deserve to have someone so good. Gerard was the better murderer, she had seen it. How he worked with a knife was so artful. He was truly the better murderer.

And she wanted Frank to know that he was, he wanted the whole world to know that he was. She wanted everyone to know that she was his apprentice. She wanted them to know that he was good, talented. She wanted them all to know that he had a talent for death, a talent for killing.

But she would save that for later, for something that was to be revealed to everyone soon enough. They had a plan that she was privy to. She was going to be made into something amazing soon, he was going to be revealed as something amazing soon.

Everyone would know who they were soon. Everyone would know that she was a killer and that he was too. Everyone would be shocked, knowing that he was truly made of true darkness. He was nothing but a killer and that was all he would ever be.

But nobody else knew that and nobody else had to. He had been a killer without anyone knowing. He was smart that way, he was good that way. He was a killer and nobody suspected anything. That was the mark of a good artist. He was making the kind of art that was coming out of left field.

Poor Armani, poor Armani. The little idiot that she had been friends with for years, not knowing what was going on right under her nose. But to her credit, Lyn-z had steered her away from the path of Gerard before. She had tampered with evidence even, secretly keeping this little game of his going. She wanted to see what he would do, what he could get away with. How great he could be with her help.

He honestly owed his freedom to Lyn-z, but she would not say that. Besides, it didn’t matter. He was  going to repay her with lessons. And she would make him love her soon enough, it was something simple, a little sacrifice for the grand plan that she had in her head. She had her own plan going on. She knew what she was going to do with him and she knew what she was going to make him do.

He was going to teach her how to be like him and then she was going to love him simple as that.

She was going to get rid of Frank and she would have Gerard to herself, she wanted Gerard to herself. She wanted to love him. She could love him so well. He didn’t need Frank. He could be so much more better than Frank. He was truly better than Frank.

He didn’t need anyone but her. She could and she would, make him feel so good. She was so good to him. She could be so good to him. Frank was bad.

Frank was a true killer, a ruthless asshole that was not going to take care of Gerard the way that she could. She could be good to him, nice to him, kind to him. She could take care of him and he could take care of her.

They could be together and they could be so good together. They were going to be so good.

Frank didn’t know what he had, what he could have. He didn’t know Gerard like she could and he didn’t love him like she could. She could be good to him, she could be so good to him. She was going to make him love her, she would bring him to his senses.

Her heart ached with the thought of his fingers, surrounding her. She just wanted to be loved by him. Couldn’t he see what she was? What he meant to her? They could be something amazing. They could be something beautiful.

But she knew that maybe he was something that she could never give Gerard. She knew that she could never be what she wanted, she could never replace Frank.

Frank was his first, Frank was the first to show him what the best part of death was. He was the frist to show him murder, she could never give that to him. She could never do that for him but he could do that for her.

Did she miss her turn? Did Frank get their first and done irrevocable damage to her darling doll boy. She wanted to love him. But Frank was the one who won the race. He was the one who corrupted him first. She would never

He would love him forever now, get him forever now, ensnare him in his web of ‘getting there faster’. But not if she could help it. She would try her best to get to Gerard, to love Gerard and have Gerard for the rest of their lives, however short they may be.

She was going to get to his apartment and help him with that body. She was going to be so good to him that he would have no choice but to fall in love with her. He wouldn’t be able to resist. She was just going to be so good that he fell in love with her.

She knew that she could make him. Because she was already in love with him, it was just a matter of time before he fell in love with her. She could will him to come to her, to fall in love with her instead of Frank. They could be so happy. She would convince him that that was the truth and not what Frank had told him.

But she could not do that now, she couldn’t work her plan now. She had to just let this happen and she had to give Gerard that. She would get him soon enough. She would have him soon enough.

She was jittery as she left, driving in her car into the bruised sunset. She was going to murder with Gerard. She was going to make him love her because she was going to be so good at killing he would only want her.

She was made to kill, born to kill. She had wanted to kill since she was a child. She would kill because she was meant to do it. She was going to do it because Gerard would fall in love with her. She just wanted him to fall in love with her. She was going to be so good, for him. For him and him only. She just wanted him to love her.

She was so lonely, so singular. To be a murderous cop, someone that was the law that wanted nothing more than to break the law. There was no one like her. There was nothing that she could relate to. She didn’t think anyone wanted to kill when they were meant to protect. Nobody she knew was like her. But Gerard was the closest. Gerard was the only one that was a killer, or at least had the tendencies that she did.

She could have nobody else. He was the only one for her and she planned for this to be that way. He was only going to be hers by the time the night was through. There was nobody else.

She couldn’t get close to Armani, no matter how much she wanted to. Because Armani would not love her if she knew who she was. She would try to sabotage her. She could not risk being her friend anymore, being her lover. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to get any closer to Armani because she knew how good she was, how pure she was. She could never divulge herself to her. She could never have a relationship that fulfilled what she needed if she was with Armani, because she would have to hide one of the most important aspects of herself, one that she just recently let out.

She could not have that happen. Her plan would not allow for her to be with anyone but Gerard. He was the only one she wanted.

She was betting on Gerard wanting her. She wanted Gerard and all that he could give her more than she wanted Armani. And that was the truth. He was just going to be better to her, even if he never ended up loving her. She would follow him to the ends of the Earth. He was going to be soo good to her. He was going to be her best friend.

She cared about him, wanted him to know that she did, that she loved and wanted him. But she knew that she didn’t want to come on too strong. He would run away if she was. So she would just be enthusiastic about killing. She could give him that much.

She wanted him to know that she loved to kill, that she wanted to kill. She would be as good as he was, she was going to be as good as he was. She was going to be the best that she could be, she would try her hardest.

She knew that he would be impressed with her when she was a killer like him. She knew that he would love her. She was going to be as ruthless as him. She was going to be as great as him, why wouldn’t he be proud? Why wouldn’t he love her? It was a no-brainer. He was her teacher and if she was good he would reward her.

With shaky hands, she pulled into his parking lot. She could see a light on at his place. She was going to get to him. She was going to get right to him and help him.

She didn’t really know what they were doing besides hiding a dead body, but she would stand to attention, rain or shine. She would jump through hoops for Gerard. She would do everything for him, anything for him. He was the most important thing to her. He was the best thing to ever happen to her. She loved him so much and just wanted to make this work.

He would love her soon enough. She would make sure that he would, it was all in her plan. She just had to be good to him. She just had to be better than Frank was.

But not too soon because she had to do good in her ‘test’ as he had called it, first. She was going to be the best by the end of the day. She was going to make him love her.

She thought of kissing him and holding him and keeping him safe and away from anything that may hurt him. She thought off midnight fantasies, under the covers of nightfall, sheets soaked in blood. She could be with him forever, she could make him happy. She could make him so happy.

She just wanted him to be happy. That was more than Frank could say. He had tried to hurt her precious flower. He had plucked the petals off of him. She was going to try to save him, she just had to try to save him.

He wanted her, she knew that he wanted her. He was trying to get to her. He was trying to breed her as a killer. That was why he was asking her to come to him. That was why he was asking her to take part in this test, she was going to be part of this test and he was going to love her, want her, kill with her. She just wanted to kill with him.

Her heart pittered at the fact that he was going to want her, see what she was truly capable of. She was going to take the first step in killing and he would be there to witness it. He was going to teach her to be like him. He was going to turn her into a killer. She was going to be a killer, the best killer. Gerard would want her when he saw her. He would want her when he knew what she was capable of. She was going to be something amazing, something beautiful, wonderful. She was going to be a killer and he was going to love her.

He was going to forget all about Frank. She was going to be the only thing left, she was going to be what he wanted. She was going to be the only thing that he wanted. He would have to want her when she showed what she was capable of.

She knew that she was just a freak now, someone who wanted to know what it was like to kill. But soon she would become credible, the best thing to ever happen to him. He wouldn’t look down on her any longer once he learned of who she was, of what she could be and what she could do.

She knew that she wasn’t much now, that she wasn’t anything now. She knew that Gerard would have to make her, fix her, mold her. But she could be something amazing if she wanted to be, if he showed her. And she was going over to his place for just that and she wanted to be good for him. So it was all coming together. Everything was coming together for her to turn into something that she’s always wanted to be.

He was going to be so proud, he was going to want her. Frank would mean nothing when he had Lyn-z to love.

She would make sure of it. He needed to know that she loved him, that she wanted him. That she needed him and she knew that he needed her. He would see the truth, soon enough. He would come to the light, soon enough.

She sat in her car for a moment, really braced for what was going to happen, ready for anything. She knew that she was going to clean up a body, clean up someone that he murdered. She was going to scrub blood from the floor. She was going to shove a body into the back of his car and she was going to hide its existence. She was going to do as bad as kill, but not as fun.

She was going to be an accomplice. She was going to be tried just as bad as Gerard was. But she was not going to have any fun. But she was sure that this was how it had to go. This was the thing that had to be done. She didn’t want to spend her days afraid just because this offer wasn’t good enough.

No, it was good enough for her. This was the best that she could do and she was not going to give it up for the world. Gerard was going to be the best thing that had ever happened to her, he already was.

She knew that he was the best killer that she had ever met. He was the best thing to ever come to her, to find her in her dull life. He was the best thing, the very best thing. She owed him everything that she was and everything that she would ever be. She was going to be something only because of him.

She had been nothing before him, she had been alone with nothing. He had given her anything, everything. He was the best thing and she wasn’t going to turn her nose up at him. She couldn’t. He was going to fall in love with her, he was going to love her. Her life was going to change when she got out of the car and stepped into his apartment. She knew that it would and that terrified her as well as excited her.

She would never be the same. Her and Gerard will never be the same, they were bound now. She was in for the ride. He was going to turn her into something amazing. She was going to be so amazing.

She had been giving this opportunity to be a killer and she was not going to give this up. No matter how bad the first brush with death would be. She wouldn’t turn her nose up at this, she couldn’t. She was grateful for this, exalted at the fact that he was calling on _her_ instead of anybody else, she was happy at the fact that he could actually call on her. That just meant that she was good enough to be used by him. She wanted to be used by him. That just meant that he thought about her. She would take anything that he gave her.

And she was excited, not ungrateful or unhappy with her first test, but the person in her couldn’t help but feel bad. That was someone in there, someone that used to be alive, breathing, happy. That was someone who was cut short in their life and would never get the chance to live again. Death was the only concrete thing in life. She would have that tool in her hands when he learned how to kill with Gerard. She would be given that opportunity to murder and to hold the cards. He was going to be her maker and she was going to be everyone else’s.

Gerard had killed them. And he wanted Lyn-z to take care of them. She didn’t know how bad it was, she didn’t know what had happened. But she did know that she was going to clean it up. She was going to be the best that she could be and she was going to try her damdest to show that to Gerard. She was going to be the best because that would get Gerard to want her. She had to be wanted.

She just knew that if she was good enough, he was going to get away with all of this. He was going to get away with even more murder than he already had. And she was going to come along for the ride. She wasn’t going to be left in the dust, she was going to be a killer like him. She wanted to kill with him, she wanted to be with him. He was going to be the best crime of the century.

They were going to get away with this! They were going to be the best killers because they were going to get away with this. Gerard was so good at getting away with things, he was amazing at making people think he was innocent.

He was going to get Frank and they were going to run away. Even if she didn’t want Frank with them, they were going to run away and they were going to be happy. She was going to be happy, even if she was just in proximity to Gerard.

She would make sure that he would and he would love her for it. She was going to be loved. She was going to get everything that she had ever wanted. She was going to have the best time of her life, and it was all beginning now, she knew that it was starting now.

She was going to clean up this body and she was going to be loved, wanted. She was going to be happy. Gerard was going to love her. She was going to have everything that she wanted to. She would kill and she would be loved.

Her heart raced, beating in her chest like a hammer, smacking at her ribcage like a caged animal. She pulsated with every fiber of her being, she was going to be loved and she was going to be feared. She was going to have everything. She was going to be everything.

She was so tired of being so little, so tired of being small. She wanted to be whatever Gerard made her in. She knew that he would make her into something amazing.

She was always just the energetic one. She was always just the wacky psychologist that the police had, that Armani had at her disposal. But now she was going to be something, someone. She was going to be more than a person, she was going to be a god.

She wondered how it would feel to go into work tomorrow, to know that she had done this and that she was walking into the lion’s den. Knowing that she could be arrested at any moment. She would become something different and she wondered if anyone would know who she was when she went in, if they could feel that she was different.

It seemed to make the killer sweeter. It was going to be something amazing. She was going to be the bravest killer, the best killer.

She was going to be like Gerard, unsuspected and sweet. Nobody knew that he was a killer and nobody would till the time was right. Nobody would know that she was.

And that was going to be the beauty of them. He was going to get her to be the best that she ever could be. He was going to give her everything she had ever wanted.

She hopped out of the car, ready to face what he was going to give her. She was going to help him and she was going to be good. She was going to make him see that she was going to be good.

It was cold and it was dark and she ate it up. She knew that she would become this soon enough, Gerard was going to turn her into this, the nighttime, the darkness. She was going to be something amazing, soon.

With a deep breath, she settled herself into a pace, walking steadily to him, getting closer and closer with ever footstep.

It made clacking noises, her shoes that she had put on in her hurry was her high heels that she wore when she knew she was going to stay at her desk. They were yelling at her to stop, yelling at her to go back to her house, leave Gerard with his murderous ways. But she wanted it all. She wanted to be with him and she wanted to kill with him. She was a killer like him.

He knew that she was going to kill with him and she knew that it was her destiny. She was going to kill, she couldn’t shy away anymore. She had to take care of what she wanted to do. If she kept it pent up anymore she was going to explode one day and that would be the worst thing to happen.

She had to go with Gerard to keep herself safe. It was the best thing that she could do. Even if she didn’t want to she was going to have to. But she did and she was going to go as soon as possible. She was going to be a killer and she was going to be the best. She was going to love it. She was going to be with Gerard soon enough. She was going to be a killer with him and she didn’t want to keep him waiting. She was going to have to make her way into his apartment as soon as possible, she was going to be something great, she just had to make her way inside, meet him inside and do what she was meant to do.

She didn’t want to keep him waiting, she knew that this was her time to shine, her time to do what she was going to do. She was going to kill and she was going to be ruthless about it. She couldn’t spend any more time deliberating. She was going to be the best murderer on the east coast and she wouldn’t waste sleep on this.

She ran faster, knowing that she probably looked like she was in a hurry. And she was, she had to get to Gerard. He was going to love her soon and her entire life would change. She was going to be somebody soon.

Fuck Armani, fuck living. She wanted to be a god, she wanted to be death. She was going to be better than everyone she had ever known.

She smiled to herself and ran up the steps, into his building, into the lobby. She waved at the person at the counter, smiling at them. They must have thought that she was insane. She didn’t care, she was going to fall in love.

She smiled to herself, she was going to fall in love. She was going to be loved, soon enough. She smiled even wider. Gerard was going to want her and only her.

She had loved Gerard since she first heard about him. She had loved him since she saw him on the news, face plastered with captions of tragedy. She knew who he was when she read more about the situation.

She knew who he was and she loved him for it. She knew that he was a killer and she didn’t care. It was what made her really want him. She knew that he was bad and she was going to love him even more because he was.

She was going to be like him. She giggled and made her way to his floor, hand sliding over the banister as she whipped into the hallway. She was going to have a hell of a time with Gerard. She was going to make her move on him, if she was able to tonight.

She was going to have the best time learning about killing. She knew that she would shine for Gerard. She knew that she would be the best that she could be for him. She was going to help him and she would make sure that he couldn’t get rid of her and that he didn’t want to.

She knocked on his door, smiling to herself and swaying back and forth with the thought of what she was about to do. She was going to get his praise, she was going to be the best that she could be for her.

Gerard opened to door after her waiting for a moment. The look on his face was stoic, but hers was ecstatic.

She didn’t think killing would be this sobering. She thought that there was a high included with taking a life. She didn’t think that he was this sad every time he murdered someone.

She sobered up herself after a moment, not knowing why he was so upset. She was taken aback by the fact that he was so upset. There had to be a reason why he was so stoic. She was worried that she was going to be killed, maybe this was a trick.

She got scared at the fact that he didn’t seem to bothered by the fact that she was there. She was scared that he was unphased that she was there, as if he hadn’t called her to come by, as if she wasn’t anything, just some tool that he was using, not a person.

She didn’t want to speak, she didn’t want to say anything. She waited for him to speak, waited for him to say anything. She couldn’t move, could barely look him in the eye. So she waited for him, wishing that he would say anything.

But he said nothing, just let her into the place. She felt the cold silence seep into her bones. She didn’t want to break the silence, she didn’t want to get cut.

She walked steadily in, shaky legs, smile gone. She was terrified now, scared that this was going to be a big mistake. She was beginning to feel bad for being as nosy as she was. She knew that this would have been a mistake.

He shut the door. “I hope you understand why I didn’t say anything,” he said, still just as stoney faced. She had never seen him like this.

She stared at him, loosening up. She did not see the body that was on the floor. She was busy staring at him, waiting for something, anything to do.

He was going to explain, taking a beat to lock the door. The click of the lock killed her heart beat and she began to only exist in her fear, keeping her alive with the way it made her heart clap in a quick succession. She felt it pounding against her chest, angry and wide and hot. She was ready for anything that he would give her. She just wanted him.

She waited for everything. Anything that he would give her. Her eyes were wide on his face. He looked haggard, tired. She gave him a moment.

“This is your first test, Lyn-z. See if you can handle this and you can help me tomorrow,” he said with his lips pursing in the period of his sentence.

Her voice was soft, reaching his ears in a gentle whisper, too gentle for someone like her to speak, too gentle for someone like him to hear. But she was confused on what he meant about ‘tomorrow’. “Help you with what?”

“I have to get Frank out,” he explained to her, taking a huff, quiet and gentle, but still ever so scratchy. Her heart took a beat and scraped its knees. He wanted Frank instead of him. “But for right now, help me get this body down the landing and into my car. They’ll see if we take it by the lobby, obviously,” he said, shrugging. He had thought this through, or at least about it.

But that was obvious, honestly. She knew that they would have to be careful with being seen, he lived in an apartment complex. They couldn’t just take the body into the car with ease. They would have to work around city living.

She nodded, gulping. The danger was gone but little did she know it was just beginning. She had just thought this test was going to be easy, something simple and without any morals. She turned to the body, heart stopping when she realized the face of an angel, clipped of its wings. Her soul stopped rustling, twitching in its life and now was still in its death. She didn’t have an inkling about how much this would take out of her. And she didn’t have an idea that she could be happy with having it all taken away once she got used to the fact that she would never get anything back.

She turned to him, horrified and sick to her stomach at the thought of what he had done. Her voice trembled and quivered. She wasn’t going to make it out of death alive.

“Gerard, that’s your brother.”


	15. Ready for Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is super long because i still want to hit 200,000+ but i decided to cut the required chapters down for ~symbolism~

Gerard was unfazed by what she had to say about his killing habits. She looked up at him with her trembling body, terrified of what he was. He was a betrayer. He was worse than a killer, he was a backstabber. His eyes were cold and they stared right back at her. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He was a killer. He was the worst kind of murderer.

With a ragged breath, her legs stayed where they were. She was daring herself to move, knowing that she couldn’t. Knowing that she wouldn’t. She loved him, of course she would stay and be a fucking idiot. She wasn’t going to give up on him, she wasn’t going to leave. She wanted this, she knew that she wanted this. But she never wanted _this_.

She never wanted Mikey dead, never wanted him hurt and maimed and killed. She couldn’t look at the body to access the damage, she wouldn’t let herself. She would be sick if she did. She didn’t want to throw up if front of Gerard. She didn’t want him to think that she was soft.

She needed this. She needed to make Gerard think that she was ready for this. She didn’t want him to think that she was weak. She didn’t want to be weak. She wanted to be just as strong as he was, just as stoic, just as blank. He didn’t show anything but indifference. She wanted to be just like him, an immortal poker face.

But she couldn’t help but feel bad about Mikey. She knew that he was small, even if she didn’t know him. He was dead and nobody deserved that. Nobody would want to be murdered, left on the floor with nothing but the blood on his neck, staining him red like it was Kool-Aid.

She wanted to bring him back to life, to bring him into something beautiful again. She wanted him to live. But he was already dead, had been for at least an hour. There was nothing that she could do, he was gone. He was nothing anymore. And Gerard was the cause. Gerard was the only reason that this poor baby was gone from the world. He was a monster, taking out the one true thing that was left in this whole scenario.

She felt sick again and she hoped to god that she didn’t show anything. There was nothing that would make him send her home, or worse, kill her, more than if she looked disgusted at what he did. She was the one that wanted to kill with him. She was just as bad as he was. But she couldn’t help the feeling. It was something that was too vile for her not to stumble at.

Gerard, his brother. His older brother sworn to protect him. He had been the one to take him out of there. She wanted to look at Gerard, access his damage, what made him snap and kill the one pure thing that was still in his life. But she couldn’t bring herself to look, she was horrified of what she might find. He wasn’t who she thought he was. And she was terrified to find that she was still in love with him, still bound to him.

She didn’t want to do this anymore. But she did, she knew that she did. She wanted to kill and she wanted to have people end up like this, like Mikey. She didn’t know why, there was something wrong with her, she knew that also. But she wanted them dead, she wanted them eliminated. She wanted to be the one to eliminate. She wanted to make them hurt. And she was just as bad as Gerard was.

But she didn’t want to be like this, she was sure no one wanted to come to terms with being a sadistic murderer like she had to. But she was going to have to, because Gerard was staring at her. Gerard was waiting for her to make her move, looking into her soul as the ever so wise killer that she was. She was going to have to make her move to break the fact that he was still watching her like a hawk, she was going to have to make herself do something. But she was frozen in the fact that he was staring at her. The fact that he was looking at her, thinking critically about his choice as her for his protégé made her skin want to fry.

She didn’t want him to look at her and start rethinking his decision, rethinking whether or not she was a valuable player in this situation, in this equation. She knew that she wasn’t. And she knew that she would have to pass every test with flying colors if she wanted to make a difference, if she wanted him to love her no less.

The time was passing, going by quicker than it usually seemed to. Everything was against her, it was her own type of karma. And every second that went by was another reason that she should be considered expendable.

She wasn’t moving, Gerard observed. She was shaking, but not moving. She looked conflicted and he hoped to god that she wasn’t rethinking what they were about to do, what they were already in the middle of doing.

Gerard was staring at her, expecting her to think that what he had done was okay. And knowing that she probably wouldn’t take it so easy, as easy as he wanted her to take it, as he needed her to. She was going to hate him for doing this to Mikey, she was going to hate him for doing this to his baby brother.

And she should hate him, any normal human being should. He was despicable. But this was a bad sign for someone who wants to do something so morally corrupt as kill someone. He needed her to not feel bad about it, he needed her to be ready because he kind of needed her now.

He was going to need Lyn-z because she was a vital part in making his and Pete’s plan move. She was going to help them get in, get through to Frankie. She was going to help them to get to the one person that really mattered, the one that he was doing this for. He didn’t want to have his efforts be wasted, he didn’t want to fuck up and make Frank hate him again because Lyn-z couldn’t deliver what she was trying to make him think that she had.

He was worried. And Lyn-z was torn.

She should think it was okay because she would do just as bad. But there was something that was holding her back, at least for the next few seconds. At least till she regained her footing on all of this. She needed a moment to think about what he had done, come to terms with it and come to terms that she was no better, that she wanted to do the same thing.

She could feel his eyes, peeling at her skin, feeling at her soul, touching and waiting and wanting her to move. She didn’t want to move. So she didn’t make one. She would wait for Gerard, he would know what to do. He had killed a person, he could kill the silence, stifle it like it was stifling them. She couldn’t bring herself to kill anything just yet. She was too small for that. She was too tiny for that.

She wished that she was a better person so she didn’t have to witness this. She wished that she was like Armani. Armani was good, Armani was pure. Armani and Mikey were the only pure people that she knew. Nobody else was as bad as Gerard, but nobody else was as good as those two. And Mikey was dead and Armani would hate her.

Armani would know who she was, what she was, the moment she walked in the door. She would be able to tell that she wasn’t good anymore, if she was ever good in the first place. Armani was good at spotting people who were impure, people who were fake. Armani would know that she had taken care of this body. She would know that she was on her way to being a killer.

She didn’t want Armani to hate her. This was who she was and Armani had to accept that. She had to know that she was a killer. But Armani was one of her best friends, and Armani caught the killers. Armani was the complete opposite of what Lyn-z always dreamed of being.

Lyn-z always thought about that. Killing and loving what she did. She was so close to being a killer, she couldn’t turn back now. And both people in the apartment knew it. Hell, even the corpse probably knew it. She wasn’t going to turn back; she was strong enough to get herself into the door, she wasn’t strong enough to get herself out of it. She was too weak, she needed Gerard to help her. They both knew that, too.

He waited for her, watching on as she fell apart, trying to stitch herself back together but horribly failing, he wished that she could come to terms with this, he didn’t want to have to kill her. He didn’t want to have to end her life over this. He should have known that she was too weak to handle this. This wasn’t something easy, he had killed his brother. That was something difficult to deal with. That was more morals than he remembered that he consistently had anymore.

He shouldn’t have called her, he could do this on his own, he really could have. But he had to bring her into this. He knew that she wasn’t ready, wasn’t serious. He should have just let her be. She would have been happier that way. She wouldn’t have to have any blood on her hands.

But no, she was now stuck and she had to pick him or she had to end up like Mikey. And he didn’t want to do that to that poor girl. He needed her and he needed her help. Besides, she was nice.

She looked terrified. She knew what the situation was like, she knew what could happen, what might happen if she didn’t go along with it. He would give her a few more seconds but the silence was so loud he could hear the tick of an analog clock that he didn’t have. Time was running out.

He was sure that Lyn-z could hear what he was saying to himself, she knew how dire the situation was now. She would have to understand or she would have to die. She couldn’t go around telling people, she would blab, she really would. He was sure that she would, and even if she wouldn’t, he was going to have to take precautions on that sort of thing.

And Lyn-z knew that, too. She could never really keep a secret, she was too emotional. What was she thinking being a murderer? What was she thinking about doing this? She was in over her head, she had no clue what she was doing. She had no clue what _they_ were doing. She was too small for this. She kept her eyes away from Gerard, she kept her eyes away from the body. (She couldn’t say his name.) She shut her eyes, pressing them hard into each other till the yellow was darker. She didn’t want to see anything.

She wanted to make the world a little smaller, she would make it a little smaller. For herself. She didn’t need to deal with this, she wasn’t going to. She would hide all the big parts, all the morals, all the brothers. She would just hide a body. That wasn’t hard. Gerard had done it before, if so many interviews and reports were correct, it was the first thing that he had done, too.

She was going to be just like him and she didn’t care that people like him killed their little brother. She didn’t care that people like him made the world seem too big for people like her. She was going to be like him and she was going to love every second of it. She was going to be like him, even if he scared her to paralyzation.

Her mouth felt like cotton. The silence was even thicker than it was in the hallway. There was no going back from this. She was going to be like him. Her fists clenched into balls next to her. She was going to do this. She was going to be just like him. It was what she wanted, what he wanted. They were going to be together. They would hurt others together. There was nothing stopping her from falling off the cliff and into destruction. Gerard would probably be the one to push her. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to make up her mind just yet, even though she knew that it was already made for her, that it had been made when he locked the door, when he opened it, when she sealed her fate when she was born. She was going to kill and he was going to love her. She just wanted him to love her.

And he wouldn’t love her if she didn’t make her move. She wasn’t going to be weak anymore. She wasn’t going to be small anymore. She would earn his love, earn his respect. She was going to make something of herself that would fulfill her darkest dreams. She was going to be better, she was going to be the best that she could be because if she wasn’t Gerard was going to kill her. That was the hard truth of it all, Gerard wasn’t going to take any shit from her and she was sure of it. She was going to have to make her decision. She was going to have to make it faster than she was.

Every second she spent thinking about how wrong this was, every second more was spent with Gerard thinking about how wrong he was for picking her out of anyone that he could. She didn’t deserve to work with him, she didn’t deserve to kill with him. Every second spent was a reminder of that and an even larger death wish. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to make others die. She had to prove that to Gerard. She had to let him know that. But only if she could make her feet move, make her soul stop trembling.

Gerard saw her fists clench and wondered if she would do anything to him, fleetingly. She looked so small, freeze frame, mid tantrum, three year old adult, fists ready to rock and eyes clamped shut in an angry blink. But the rest of her body was calm, taken like a storm, legs straight, back straight. She was in juxtaposition and she was beautiful. But he was still waiting for his answer. He wanted to know if she was up to the task that he had given her, the task that he even had yet to explain. He was sure that she would do it, but he was tired of waiting.

He sighed. “Do you want to kill or not?” he asked. His voice had a hint of the darkness that she saw in the body in front of her. He was getting impatient, he was going to kill her. Soon enough if she didn’t prove her worth, he would cut her from the team. It was just like college, just like Darwin said.

Her fists were hot feeling, warm and biting into the rest of her skin, spreading to her face slowly, like she was a tea kettle, ready to whistle its shrill way into someone’s consciousness. She focused on them for a few more minutes. She didn’t want to move, not just yet, even if she didn’t have any more time to waste. She was terrified of him; she was so scared of what he was going to do to her. What he would do if she refused. She wasn’t going to, they both knew that she was head over heels in love with him and do anything for him, but the possibility lingered in both lover’s minds.

Her legs felt like jelly. She wanted to kill, she really did. But she didn’t want to be like him, not anymore. She didn’t want to be a brother killer, a friend killer. She didn’t want to snatch the innocence, she wanted to become it. She didn’t want to lose everything and become as feral as he was. She wasn’t made to be like him. But she would try; she knew that she had to. It was the principal of it all. She was going to have to do it. Because she wanted to kill but she didn’t want to be like him. Not anymore.

She looked from him to the body again. Mikey’s throat was slashed, covered in blood and death. His eyes were closed but she could tell that he looked sad. She didn’t know what happened between the two brothers and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She was just going to help Gerard clean this. She decided that she would learn to kill and that she would like killing. She was going to be like him, she was going to be this part of him, all parts of him.

But he was still someone different. He wasn’t her friend anymore; he wasn’t the person she loved. He was barely a person. She would help him; she was the one that wanted this. She knew that she had to accept her fate; she sealed it when the door closed. But he was nothing to her but someone that she undyingly loves without knowing them. That’s what she gets. She fell in love with the concept of a killer, innocent, and she won’t let that go now. He was going to be with her and she was going to be with him and she would love him because he was an enigma. And he would love her because of a miracle.

This wasn’t going very well, Gerard must not have been impressed by her lackluster performance so far. But it wasn’t her fault; she was in love with him and she was trying to come to terms with that fact still standing up when she sees this body laying down. She was in love with Gerard even if his brother was dead, even if he was horribly maimed and hurt. She still loved him, even though she knew that she shouldn’t. She couldn’t help herself. It was like instinct. She would always love him. It was something that was just going to happen. He was going to be loved by her, no matter what.

She was bound to him now, he was her rock. He was the one thing that dragged her around, from one thing to the next, she knew of innocence and the beauty of guiltiness while she was in his presence. She had never felt that way before about anyone else besides him.

She only glanced at him, no matter how much she loved him, she couldn’t look at him. She let her hand rest near her throat. She couldn’t look at Gerard, he was a killer. He was a murderer and soon she would be, too. She was going to kill with him, be like him. He was a murderer and now so was she. She was going to make him proud, she wasn’t going to be a baby about this, she was sure that he wasn’t, so he was going to make sure that she was reacting appropriately, reacting calmly to this.

She was still trying to force back down her food from that evening. She didn’t want it to seem like she might throw up. He wanted her to think that she had this, that she was even better than what he had been like the first time he had to do this. She was going to be as good as him, better than him if she could.

He must have taken care of that guy for Frank without the batting of an eyelash. She was going to do the same, she was going to be as good of a bad guy as he was. She was going to be the best at what he was. She was going to be just like him, just like Frank. She was going to kill and she was going to like it. He was going to love her. But she had to move, she had to do something about this. Gerard was waiting for her.

It was easy, take the body to the car, drive to the park, plant the body. It was something so easy she could have made a child oversee it. But that would have been cruel and that was the problem with what she was doing. Even if she didn’t have quite a problem anymore. She could deal with this. She was going to deal with this.

She had made up her mind, she had decided what she wanted, what she was going to be. She thought briefly of her parents, her family, her friends, work. None of them could make up for one life taken. She was going to do what she’s always wanted to do. She was going to kill. She was going to make people hurt and she knew that in return she would have to hurt as well. There was no going back for Thanksgiving or Christmas. There was going to be none of the usual things that she might have done this year. She was a killer, she didn’t have time for the holidays. She and Gerard were going to be the best thing. They were going to be the best thing together. She would make sure that the world knew who they were. She would kill for Gerard. She would leave everything behind.

She knew that this was what she had to do, this was what she was going to do. She was a killer now, there was no time to wait. She was a criminal now, she would have to get on with the crime. Or else she would be like she usually was and just be a big talking pussy.

She gulped, stepping down to stare at Mikey better. She knew that late at night she would regret this, that she would hate herself for doing this, but she had to now. So she would let herself hate, she would let herself want to die because she was selfish later. There was no time to feel bad, she could do that when she was alone. She could feel as dead as Mikey was when she was lying in bed that night. She could hate herself as much as she did right now and even more.

There was nothing she could do about her emotions, her morals, the fact that she was giving up everything to love a person that she didn’t even love. She loved the idea of him, he was innocence as well as death. He was guilty of being everything that she couldn’t and she would love him for it.

He was almost like Mikey, but he was more. Mikey was innocent. But Gerard was both, like she said. Gerard was just more than his brother ever could be, and she meant that in the best way towards both of them. She knew that Gerard was just all of what Mikey could never be. He wasn’t better, no, but he was more, like she said.

Mikey was gone now anyway, so it didn’t really matter. There was something about it that was just gone now. He was nothing now. He wasn’t innocent, even though he still looked like it. He was just dead, gone. Taken and yanked from the roots where he laid himself in his first few years. Now there was just a big hole in the ground that missed the warmth of the flower, the company.

She thought briefly of the flowers she pulled up as a child, wild foxgloves begging to be pulled but still wanting to cling to the remains of their support system. They always came up roots and all. They were to never to depart from the parts of the flower that stay under the soul. So she cut them off and then it was just them, a pale purple and wilting when the day was over. They weren’t strong enough, and she didn’t blame them. She wasn’t sure if she was either. She would probably break down by the end of the day, sitting in bed at night, crying herself to sleep. She was the one who wanted this. She was going to have to deal with this.

She didn’t blame Mikey either. He was just Mikey now, dead, gone. He wasn’t even Mikey. He was a corpse. He was a memory, like a picture, taken in mid blink, he was gone from this life a little wrong, just a little off. She could see that he was settled in, ready to die, the way his limbs lay told her that he was alright with this. That made her ache, made her want to help him. But there was still something wrong about it, a red flag that was just tucked under him.

But he was stupid for coming anyway. He was an idiot for making his way to Gerard when he knew that he was only going to die. He must have known. He looked too at peace for someone who had their throat slit. He knew that Gerard was a killer and over the few days he must have known he had come to terms with it.

Certainly not when he was sitting in Armani’s office. He looked scared shitless of everything but his own breath at that point in time, but maybe within the hour that he was still alive, after she had last seen him, first seen him, he had been made into something too good for death. The thing with dying is that if you are okay with it you never really die, just move on. She was happy to be confronted with the fact that he had made his way down Death Interstate. He was going to be a true immortal, she would just be a fast legend.

She knew that he was always going to be better than her. She didn’t have what Gerard did and she definitely didn’t have what Mikey did. She was a coward and a killer and she wanted more than she could ever gain by herself. But that was not her fault, Gerard was always going to be better, Mikey was always going to be better. She was less than them. That was just a fact. She didn’t really mind it. She knew that she was.

What they both had was something secularly amazing. She couldn’t compare, couldn’t compete. They were beautiful, Mikey was dead. But he was still gorgeous. And Gerard was living, Gerard was thriving. He had had a few months ahead of her and a half a dozen bodies. Gerard was going to always be better than her.

Because she was moral. She had then still, buried deep inside of her, repressed but still instilled. She could never be a thoughtless killer because her thoughts always caught up to her. She was going to think about this tonight, she was going to feel terrible about this tonight. She knew that she would, it was just the fact that she was with Gerard right now, not upset at what she was doing. But you’re going to see, dear reader, you are going to see that she would be divided on what she was doing soon enough.

She looked at Mikey, a horror show. She couldn’t believe that she was staring at his body, that she was looking at this dead man and feeling nothing, especially when she kind of liked him. Or at least, she liked the parts of him that she knew from briefly looking at his shaky body, bones made of nothing but pop rocks.

It was weird, knowing that a person that she had the chance to know was dead, someone that she had met had died and she was aware that he was dying. That he was already dead.

She wondered if she had a feeling a few hours before. If she knew when Mikey had died. She tried to stretch her brain to think about it, think about how he had felt, if he was scared. She wondered if she felt different when he died, if she noticed a shift in the air. If she had felt a shift that meant everyone did, nobody would ever be comfortable. There was always someone taking their last breath, always someone taking their first. Death never stopped, life never stopped.

That was why it was so cruel, because it was so insignificant. Everyone who died was so insignificant the only way they were of any note was when they were dead.

He was gone and she didn’t even know him enough to say much more than a hello. There was something amazing about murder, something so spontaneous about the act of death itself. Nothing changed, everything changed.

There was nothing different in the air when he died. There was no click, no warning. There was nothing but the breath that she knew that she took in that moment. The cruelest thing about death was that everyone else kept living.

There was nothing about death that was calm, nothing about it that was kind, whoever said so was lying. She knew the dirty part, the gritty part. She was faced with it right now. She knew what death was, she was staring it right in the eye. But there was still the fact that once you died your life meant nothing.

Something about Mikey, about his body and the way it laid was telling her that this was worse than it seemed. There was something about him that was emanating raw death. His body was stewn, calm and sad, stoic. But there was still the space around him, the space that was screaming that this was bad, that Gerard and she were bad.

There was an air of death over the entire space that he was in. There was a cloud over the space where he was. He was a baby lamb, solemn in death. She didn’t think death was something amazing anymore. There was nothing for the living to enjoy in death. There was nothing for her. But she would make it something for her, mold it into what she wanted to be, who she wanted to be. She would make sure that he and all that he now stood for didn’t get in the way. She was going to kill and she was going to love it. It was as easy as that. Something was going to be made beautiful because of her. Plants would grow because of his body, she would become a god. There would be people who loved her and people who hated her. Death was a thing of passion.

She looked to Gerard again. She would make it work because she still loved him. She wasn’t made to change, and the concrete had set on who she was now. There was no going back. Death was her one true calling, there was something about it that she would always love and always be loved by. There was nothing to change the two individuals. She would have to do this, have to answer her calling.

She sighed, taking her hand away from his space. She didn’t want to touch him till he had to. She didn’t want death to rub off on her. She was afraid of what she might become if it did. She was afraid that she would become what she loved if it did. She didn’t want to be Gerard anymore, we have established that well, reader.

She was too shaken but what he had done to be him anymore, too changed by the fact that he was such a backstabber. She wanted him, all of him, but she was beginning to realize that he was not what she wanted, that he was dirtier than the person she fell in love with. She didn’t want to have to deal with the fact that he was someone different, someone worse. She didn’t want to have to cope with the fact that she loved an idea rather than a person so they would never work.

She shuddered and looked away from the body, standing up to him, looking away from the body. She didn’t want to call it by his name. It was just a thing now, it wasn’t a person, wasn’t alive. It was a body. It wasn’t Mikey anymore. It would never be Mikey again.

And that was the real point of killing, the fact that people could make something that was once a person into nothing at all, into something that would rot away. Everyone was temporary, especially when death came to knock. Your body was your body and you could live for years, but once death hit your body caved in on itself within days. Death was the cruelest thing that life had to offer. And that was why she couldn’t help but love it. She knew that she shouldn’t, but she did anyway and she enjoyed every second of what she was going to do, what Gerard was teaching her to do.

Death was something amazing, death was something beautiful and he was going to hand over the art of it to her. She was going to be something amazing. She just knew that she could be with death as her friend. Death was the best friend to have. It was the afterlife that was being a bitch.

She knew that she would be looked down upon for doing this, that something would happen and she would die and she would be fucked beyond belief. Death was good, hell was going to be worse. Death gave her absolution in life but she would have to make up for what she had done when she was amongst the fire, amongst the pain that was what she was going to be a part of. And she would be on the receiving end of all the pain that she had wielded in her better days. But it was not time for death yet, it was not time for the glory to be over so she would deal the pain that they needed to feel.

She would have to get the act of killing started, she would be dead like all of them soon enough so why bother thinking about it? She was going to be a killer soon, she was already one, if she thought about it. She had let someone die without going to justice, that was just as good as Gerard, even if he had actually taken a life. She would do that, too and soon. But this was her first test. She just had to get done with this, get through this with her morals still shattered.

But it was heard when she had to deal with the fact that she was still a person, still someone who was supposed to keep up high morals. But she let them fall because she knew what she really was, she wasn’t a person of the law, she wasn’t even a person, at least not for much longer. She was going to be a god soon enough, she was going to be better than anyone soon enough. If she could let herself get rid of those pesky morals. She wasn’t meant to be a person to be looked up to, she was meant to be dirty, to be dark. She was meant to be a person that you see on the news, that people sneer at and hate. She wasn’t made for being good.

So she decided that she would kill. She decided that she would be a killer and that she would love it. This was her first test so she would gladly take it. To make Gerard happy, to make him see that she was a killer like him, or that she could be, at least. She wanted to be like him so she was going to do this for him.

She crossed her arms and looked at him, still scared, terrified out of her fucking mind that she was about to do this but knowing that this was the right thing for her, the best thing for her. She wasn’t going to dwell on it, she wasn’t even going to think about it. She was just going to kill and she was going to kill for Gerard. This was what she had to do for him and what she had to do for herself. She was going to kill and she was going to love it.

There was still a voice in her head that was telling her no, that was telling her to stop and go home. But she knew that she couldn’t. She was stuck here now, Gerard had trapped her and she couldn’t think of a better place to be taken prisoner. She was going to listen to Gerard, to what he had to say. She was going to clean up his brother. She was going to forget that it was ever his brother. She was going to forget that Mikey was innocent and Mikey was innocence. She wasn’t going to let herself remember what people were when they were dead. She would just let them die.

“What’s first?” she asked, voice stoic and hard. She wasn’t going to make any more of a deal. She had settled into this, there was no going back. There was nothing anymore, she told herself over and over. She would have nothing anymore, it was already gone. So there was nothing to be afraid of, she was going to kill and she was going to become more of what she already was, more of what she had hidden inside of her.

Armani wouldn’t want her now; everyone could see that she was different now. Gerard was the only thing that she had anymore. He was the only one that understood. She was like him. She wasn’t too happy about it. But she didn’t let it show. She didn’t want him to know that she disapproved of him killing Mikey, he was the master, if he had to kill his brother than he had to kill his brother. It wasn’t her place to say anything about it. She didn’t know as much as he did about it.

Gerard sighed again; he was doing a lot of that. He put his hands on his hips, something to pass the time and give him something to do while he thought. He looked like he was really thinking about this, for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He stared at the body. She reminded herself that it wasn’t Mikey anymore.

“Let’s, I don’t know, let’s take him down the fire escape,” he said, pointing out the window. He sounded tired and she felt bad for him. He even looked tired, bags under his eyes and darkness in his soul. He seemed as small as his brother, dead and alone and still on the floor. Gerard’s eyes were dim, just as dead as Mikey’s was.

She wanted to do this all on her own, to give him time to himself, she knew that this was hard for him, but she couldn’t carry a body by herself and they both knew it. She was too small to do anything by herself, at least right now. She didn’t know the first thing about killing. She didn’t know the first thing about hiding a body. She at least needed Gerard to tell her what to do.

He looked back to Lyn-z, face hesitant but still hurrying. There was a glint in his eyes and maybe he really did like what he had done. Maybe he did like the fact that he had killed his brother. She hoped it was just the fact that he had killed.

She still felt a shiver in her bones, looking away from the body. “Should I clean up the blood first?” she asked. She stepped away from it, seeing now that she was dangerously close to said blood. She didn’t want to get that on her shoes, she didn’t want to have to touch it. If she touched it, it was real. If she touched it then she would have to wipe it off. And If she had to wipe it off she would have to think about it when she was alone, at home, going over the events in her head like a broken record.

She was going to regret this, but the freedom it would give her in the moment, the power that it would put in her hands for the time being. She didn’t have to think of anything but the moment. She was going to stay in the moment because if she thought of the future she might not even want to do this anymore. She was going to be spontaneous. She was going to make a difference in her own life; she was going to make the jump into criminality. It was exciting. And she was still scared shitless.

She looked down and there was blood, stuck in the carpet, raw and still wet looking. She could get it out with a little scrubbing, it wasn’t all dry, she would have to take her time but it wouldn’t be too bad. She just hoped she wouldn’t get it on her fingers. She didn’t want to be afraid of being stained with that. She didn’t want to go into work tomorrow even more of a marked woman.

She tried to look away from Mikey’s body, she was guilty just staring at it. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve anything that he was put through, he was too good for it all, too good for them. Maybe it was best that he had died. Maybe he would move onto better things.

He was innocent, he was pure. He was a baby deer, shot and killed. Bambi bites the dust, dead just like its mother. Mikey was left alone, died with nothing.

She didn’t want to think about that, she didn’t want to deal with his death. He was too good for this world and too good to be snuffed out of it like he was, brutally and violently. She hoped that all the people that Frank and Gerard had killed were with him, she hoped that he was not alone.

She didn’t want to think about it but it kept pounding in the back of her head, yelling at her to stop, to pull the brakes before the bus hits the wall and crumples. She was going to kill and she was going to like it, but she could still mourn Mikey’s death. Even if she didn’t know him and she was going to make other end up like him. Mikey did that to people. People couldn’t help but help the smaller person.

She wondered what would have happened if he was still alive. She wouldn’t have gotten this opportunity. She wouldn’t have gotten the chance to be a killer. So maybe she should be grateful. Maybe she should commemorate this death, understand that this was her major break. Gerard and Mikey had given her her everything. She was going to be a killer now.

But there was still the fact that she had morals, at least loose ones. There was still the fact that she was a killer and she was going to be taught how to really do so. Gerard was going to fall in love with her, even if he was a terrible person. Even if she was a terrible person. They were perfect for each other.

It was all coming together, but she couldn’t help but feel bad. She couldn’t help but be sucked into her thoughts and turned into a nervous wreck, a selfish wreck. Late at night would be the worst and she knew that she would dwell on this. She knew that she would get caught up in this. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. There was just something about the fact that when the lights went dark so did her thoughts.

She couldn’t help but think of Gerard, think of how the death went down, the murder. Mikey must have been ready for it from the way he was positioned. But she still felt terrible that he had to be. She felt terrible that he had thought about it enough to want it, to be oaky with it. She just wanted him to want to live, even to the last second of his life. She didn’t want the light to go out.

She felt terrible for him. She yearned to help him. But it was too late, he was already dead. He was already gone. There was nothing she could do. There was nothing that Gerard could take back. He was dead.

Poor baby, left to be murdered by his own brother. There was nothing here for him, though. And she was sure that Gerard knew that. There was nothing for him anywhere. So he had to die. He knew too much, so he had to die.

Everything added up to make him a martyr. Nothing ever changed about the fact that he was made to be killed. His life only started to be tore down, was only significant in the way that his wings were tore out.

She just couldn’t believe that he was dead. That was the fucked up part that the one who wanted to know about death and wield it, was still vague on the entire subject. She was met with the fact that she was still ignorant to a lot of the fact that she was novice, new to this and drowning. Gerard was going to teach her how to swim.

But she still felt the vague existence of what she really was. She was naïve, stupid compared to Gerard. Gerard knew what death was, he had stared it in the face. She had never really seen it before, had never seen it in the way that Gerard had.

Death was weird like that, you think you get it, but you really don’t. Mikey was gone, he was dead. There was nothing left but his body so why did she feel that she could turn back time, get him back? Or in a few days she would see him on the street and say hi and this would all be one big understanding that a hug from his brother could fix.

He was dead and he wasn’t coming back. Everyone who had ever died was going to stay dead.

She was going to hurl.

It wasn’t even the fact that he didn’t deserve to die. It was the fact that he was dead. Just dead and never coming back, never going to come back. She was still messed up on that.

She wasn’t sad, no, just amazed. She couldn’t be sad about it, couldn’t mourn it, it didn’t feel right. She didn’t know him well enough, but she knew he was small, loved. Everyone loved him because they didn’t have a choice. He was just so easy to love. And everyone had to do it, he needed to be protected. She could tell that by the way that he laid, broken already, bags under his eyes.

She didn’t like the way the dead body looked, she didn’t want to have to touch it. But she knew that she would have to. She knew that Gerard expected her to. That he was going to, too, so she would have to make sure that he was in the car and in a hole and out of sight. She was going to have to handle a dead body and she was going to have to make sure that this dead bod never got justice.

She wanted Mikey to be free and she wanted Gerard to go to jail but only the part that was Mikey’s killer. She didn’t want him to go to jail persay, but it felt cheap that he never would have a proper trial, that Gerard was always just going to be his brother, his demented killer brother who murdered him, too. But he would never be tried for it. No one would be able to find him.

And that was the best thing and the worst thing about Gerard. He was going to be the best escape artist ever but his brother was never going to get what he deserved in death. He was always going to just be Mikey, killed by his brother.

It was a weird thought that Gerard was getting off scot free, it wasn’t fair, but it was definitely a lot of fun.

She was going to get started on taking care of this body and not standing around thinking. She was going to stop deliberating over if she would be a killer or not and she was going to get to work on this body. She was going to take care of him for Gerard. She was going to make him love her, she was going to be good for him.

She didn’t want to disappoint. She really didn’t. She wanted Gerard to love her, and she wasn’t going to make a good impression if she didn’t abide to what he wanted her to do. She didn’t want to seem like she was unloyal, ungrateful, but she wanted to stall, she really did. Mikey was too good for life and he was too good to be shoved aside in death.

She just knew that he was in heaven. And that was all that mattered. He was slaughtered like a lamb, sacrificed and now laid to rest by two people unworthy of him. She loved him, and she never knew him. He was that easy to love.

She didn’t want to think about it any longer and she knew that Gerard didn’t either because he finally answered the thinking woman, bringing her out of her thoughts and into the world where there was a dead body on the ground, and good thing too, she was starting to really think about that dead body and finding it hard with each thought to bring herself out of what she was doing.

Gerard always grounded her, always made her really think about the big picture. Even when she didn’t really know him he had always been the thing to keep her down, to keep her focused. Before she knew him it was the fact that he was so interesting that made her want to stay on task because she knew that if she was extra good Armani would probably indulge her and let her go see him and she was right. She had solved a case with a psychopath and then Armani granted her permission to come when she went to get Gerard that time when she needed to interview him. And look at where that got her. Now she knew Gerard and she was about to kill with him.

Which reminded her to listen to his words and understand what he was saying to her. She had been lucky enough to catch him when he was generous and get training from him in how to be a killer, she had to listen to what he was about to teach her.

Gerard waved his hand in dismissal. “We can clean it later. Blood is easy, you can’t hide a body under a rug,” he points out. She would make a note of that. She had to make sure that she understood what he was saying to her, what they were doing. She would listen attentively to everything that he had to say.

Lyn-z nods in agreement, kicking his pale and lithe arm. He looked green in death. He looked like a sickly child, small and forgiven. He was nothing anymore. He was fucking dead and she needed to get over the fact that he was once a person. He was nothing now so it didn’t even matter. He was dead and gone like so many others. There was nothing that they could do and even if they could it wouldn’t even matter. He was gone. Everyone was, ever so slowly.

Like so many that they were going to dispose of soon. She didn’t want to think about him, she didn’t want to think about any. When she thought about them her head hurt. There were too many dead people in the world, not enough death.

She didn’t want to have to see him dead, as we’ve established in the former paragraphs. She didn’t want to have to look at him, he scared her and he was too boring for her to want to look at anyway. She didn’t want to stare at him. But that was the only way that she would be acquainted with him. For shame. She didn’t have enough time to really know him, this was the only time that she could study the groove of his nose, the way that his lips looked a lot like Gerard’s just on a different face and with a few different measurements. Pinched lips, longer face, softer eyes. He looked so much more smaller. But he still looked like Gerard, something like him.

He was definitely Gerard’s brother. He was definitely close to him, when he was alive and before Gerard was taken to the side of the murderers, dirty and bad and tainted. He was too pure and he didn’t want to do anything like him, he didn’t want to be anything like him. And Gerard had stabbed him in the back. Oh well, that’s life. And life was a cruel bitch.

She stooped down to grab at his arms, small and pearl looking. He was small, easily carriable, but still heavy and oh so doll like. He was dainty and she loved the way he looked, calm and opaque. His throat was angry and red, yelling like a gash. She wasn’t much for art but he was it and Gerard had made it. She was so proud of her lover. She was so proud of the man she chose to follow.

Her arms were getting heavy as she stared at this man and admired Gerard’ work. She didn’t want to have to carry this all by herself. She didn’t want to have to do that. She hoped that Gerard would get the hint and help her out.

Gerard would have to get the other side if they wanted to get him down the stairs easily. She could not handle a grown man by herself. He would have to help her. She wondered briefly if because he was the teacher, this would be part of her lesson. Maybe she needed to learn how to carry a fucking dead body. She definitely hoped that she didn’t need to learn that. She was too small to be carry him, this would end badly if she had to.

“Grab his legs,” she asked of him, getting a better grip on him. She nodded to where he needed to get, steadying herself. She wondered if he would help when he didn’t move for a moment. She wondered if he thought him too good to do anything but the grunt work. He was too good, too good for anything but killing. He left the bodies alone, after they were gone they were left there. Gerard was too good to take care of anything, she didn’t mind that he didn’t want to make a move.

But Gerard obliged after setting himself into motion to get closer to the body, grabbing at his now dead brother’s legs, still clothed in tight jeans and mud covered sneakers. He died insignificantly. He died in the way that he had lived. How comforting of a thought, the fact that death was a pause button and seemed only significant to the living.

She got herself out of thinking of that when she moved to the fire escape, grunting with the weight of a full grown man in her arms. Gerard did help her and she was grateful for that. She knew that he wasn’t strong either and that they were still going to have a hard time, but it was nice knowing that Gerard wasn’t a total dick, even if they were murderers.

They carried him down to the car, getting themselves stuck once or twice, when the footing wasn’t right or they were afraid someone would hear them, a dog howling or a scuffling of someone else’s feet were quick to send them off about this. They needed to make sure that the street light was the only witness. They hoped to god that there was no one looking through their windows, unseen by the two killers.

They were trying to be really careful with that. Gerard wasn’t going to risk going to prison, he had to get Frank out and he had to be careful going about keeping his brother from being seen. He was not going to get in trouble for trying to make it like he was not in it. He needed this to go as planned, or at least to coincide with as much of the plan that he had gotten down.

He thought of Frank, waiting for him and the fun that they would have. He had killed his brother to save his lover. It was all part of the plan, albeit the one that was being made up as he went. He was still trying to make his way to Frank. That was the one reason he wanted to kill and that was the main reason he was. He was killing to get to Frank, to make him want him, to keep him safe. He would kill the entire world to save Frank. He would even kill himself to save Frank. He was going to be loved by him and that was all that he could ask of Frank.

He didn’t deserve him or his love but he was going to get it because of the trail of bodies, or at least he hoped. There was still a nagging in the back of his head that was telling him that Frank would never want him, that Frank wouldn’t want him ever again. He wished that he could kill his brain, or at least the part of him that was yelling to stop, to give up hope. Yeah, that was the part of it that he wanted gone. He wanted that entire part erased so he could love and want and hope freely. But alas, he would always have that. And he was justified in thinking that.

He had made Frank go to prison. He was the reason he had to get him out anyway. He must be so upset in there, not haven killed in ages. It must have been driving him mad. He wanted to help him, he wanted him to be out now. But he couldn’t. He had to take care of this tonight. He had to make sure that this part of the plan and then he would be with his Frank by the end of the next day if it all went well.

Frank was going to love him soon. He was sure that he would, he had to. He had spilt blood for Frank, he had done everything for Frank. The worse things that he could have done had proved his love in abundance, he just hoped that Frank felt the same. He was going to love him soon and everything would be okay then. It was too late to turn back now, anyway. He was going to have to love him or else it would have all been for nothing.

He had killed his baby brother for him. He had murdered his entire world for this. He was going to be with Frank again. He was going to make him love him again. He didn’t care if it took his whole life and countless others, he was going to get Frank to want him again.

They were going to get away soon. He was going to be with him, love him. He wanted to love him. He wanted Frank to love him. It was the only way that they could live, the only way that they could survive. He didn’t want Frank to not love him, he had never lived as his true self, his oneself that was alive, that killed, without the support of Frank. He was going to need him if he wanted to kill the entire world. He had to have him if he wanted to do the best that he could, if he wanted to be known as one of the best killers. He was too small without Frank. He was afraid of what would happen if Frank didn’t want him anymore.

He wondered if they would ever be the same again. He was counting on the fact that they would be, that they would be able to pick up where they left off and love each other again. He just wanted to love him. But he wondered how different it would be. He wondered if it would really effect what they were and what they did. He wondered if there would be any disruption or if they would just pick up where they left off, so many, many, years ago it seemed. He wanted to see him again. He wanted to be with him again. He couldn’t wait, he couldn’t wait.

He loved him so much. He stared down at his dead brother. He had killed his brother for Frank, for Frank to just want him again. For Frank to just think about him. His best friend was dead because of his lover and because of the fact that he wanted to be with him again. Frank was the best thing that had ever happened to him, of course he wanted to be with him. It was only natural for him to want him. He was the one person that turned him into what he was now.

They were going to be together again, he had risked too much. Frank had to love him again. He had nothing else but the fact that he was going to love him. He was still banking on the fact that he was in love with him as much as Gerard was with him.

He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to ruin everything for Frank and end up with nothing he just wanted to love him. He wanted to love him and be loved by him. Was that too much to ask for?

Apparently it was because he was doubting whether or not Frank still wanted to be with him. He was doubting whether or not Frank was going to love him as much as he did before he went to prison. He didn’t want anything to change, he just wanted things to be the same as they were before. He wanted to be loved and he wanted to kill.

But he was terrified that Frank didn’t want him anymore. He was terrified of being alone.

He was worrying himself, getting worked up over nothing, dwelling on things that Frank wouldn’t think second about himself. He still loved him, he told himself, he still wanted him. He had done everything that he hadn’t even asked for.

He stared at his brother, cold in his arms. He was dead. He was gone and he trusted Gerard. He had made Gerard promise that he was going to take care of him, even if it was in his head or a silent agreement between the brothers. He had killed his little brother for Frank, because of Frank.

Frank was going to hurt Mikey, he had been waiting for it and he loved Frank too much to stop him. But he loved Mikey enough to kill him. To murder him.

But he was protecting him, he was keeping him safe with the fact that he was letting him die. He was letting his brother move on. He was protecting him that way. He was gone because he wasn’t meant for Gerard anymore. He wasn’t meant for life. He was going to be safe without the breath of mortality.

Gerard knew that he couldn’t stay alive, not with Frank around. He would kill him. He tried to tell himself that his little brother would die because of Frank. He knew that he would and he was still with him, he could never let Frank go. He was always going to be in love with him, always going to be made for him. He didn’t want Mikey to die but he would have lost him anyway, would have lost Frank.

He loved Frank, it wasn’t his fault that he hated his little brother. He was murderously inclined, it was how it was going to end anyway. He was going to die by somebody’s hands so it was probably best that it was Gerard’s. Because Frank would show no mercy. Frank wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. Hell, he probably would have done worse than his regular victim because he had a vendetta against Mikey. He was the one that ratted them out in the first place, he was the reason that they weren’t together right now. Mikey was the reason behind all of this. He was the reason behind his own death, even.

But still he felt bad because of it. He was trying his best to keep what he could together. But he was finding it hard and harder. He wasn’t going to have anything left. He should have known better when he first started this, he was foolish, an idiot.

His brother’s body swung like a pendulum, cold to the touch and terrifying. He was heavier than he remembered, more freezing than he remembered. Or maybe it was the winter coming to say hello to the trio. There was a heaviness to what they were doing, a silence that was hitting them hard and sitting on their shoulders.

Lyn-z was quiet, silent and waiting for him. She wasn’t anything but a worker right now, she wasn’t looking at him. He was thinking to himself. He was sure that she was too. This was going to be something that she was going to have to process. And he hoped that she didn’t process this as something bad.

He didn’t want to make her feel bad. He didn’t want to do this to her, but he needed her. He needed her and she was willing to work for him. She was willing to be a killer. He knew what it was like but she didn’t and he didn’t want to take advantage of her but there was the fact that she was still eager, still willing. She was going to learn what it was like to be a killer, what it was like to have blood on your hands. She wasn’t going to like it, he knew her. But she was going to love the moment.

He felt terrible for doing this to her. He felt bad for even bringing it up to her. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need to be put in this situation. But he had done it anyway. She was a killer now, she was a criminal now.

There was nothing that he could do about it. She was going to want this till she had it. She was going to want this till she could quell the desire and he knew that you never really did. You always wanted to kill, you always wanted to maim. Nothing would ever change the fact that she was born to be a killer. She would always have to kill to get her fix.

He still loved it, even after the fact that he had killed Mikey. He knew he was going to kill again, but it was just going to have a bad aftertaste. There was always going to be the memory that they ended up like Mikey was, where Mikey was.

He still loved it. He just didn’t love the fact that this was his baby fucking brother. He was guilty, he was bad. Lyn-z knew him now. She knew that he was a terrible person now. That was the thing that he was most afraid of was going to sit in her mind. The fact that he was bad and that she shouldn’t work with him anymore because of that. He _had_ killed his little brother.

He didn’t want to look at Lyn-z, he knew what she was thinking, what she must be feeling. He just hoped she didn’t break down. She just hoped that he didn’t hate her anymore. He was a killer and he was the worst kind and she knew it. He oved Frank but he wanted her to love him. He wanted her to want him. He was a fickle creature and he needed something to hang onto while Frank was away and couldn’t love him.

He needed her, he needed her to pull herself together, to keep herself together and to want to help him and to love him. He knew that he had fallen apart, that he had crumbled and Frank had to build him back up. It hadn’t taken long, but it was the principal of the matter. He had to make sure that she was not going to break. That she was going to stay with him and help him out. He needed her.

She needed to stay together for him, bring herself together for him. He needed her to get Frank out. She could question her morals when they got Frank out. She could leave when he got his lover. He just needed her right now. He needed her to love him and he needed her to want to help. She wouldn’t help unless she had an undying allegiance to him. She wouldn’t want to help unless she was given something that she wanted. And she wanted him. She had to want him for the rest of this plan. She had to love him for this plan to work.

And he was terrified that she didn’t love him right now, that she had stopped when he killed his brother. He didn’t know if she still had morals. He hoped that she didn’t. That would put a huge wrench in his plan if he was one person short. He couldn’t just do this with Pete, even though he was sure that he could if he really wanted to. He needed Lyn-z. He needed her to make sure that they were going to do this right.

She was even a cop, she could be valuable to him. She could be of use in learning what cops did, how they thought what they would do next. She would be leverage. And he could pretend that he had taken her hostage if he needed to. It was all going to come together greatly. She was going to be valuable to this plan, she really would be.

But she had to love him for him to be able to do this, for him to be able to get Frank back. She would be the last piece of the puzzle. He would reward her greatly for what she was going to do with him, what she was going to do for him. She was going to be amazing.

His blood boiled with the thought of what they might do. They were going to get Frank back! They were going to get away with all this murder, all these little deaths leading up to this final fight. They were going to leave this all behind and make more messes that everyone else would have to clean up. They were going to be killers and they were going to be the best at it. They were going to be the best of friends, soon enough they would do this and it would all work out perfectly. He was so excited. He was so excited! They were going to get Frank back.

He looked at Lyn-z again and he was reminded that he couldn’t be sure on whether or not she would help hm. He wanted to think that she would. He wanted to think that she couldn’t have been shaken as easily as she was and he was right about her. But he wasn’t sure. She seemed to be faring well, better than he was on his first kill. He was in hysterics, terrified of everything and bawling his eyes out. Frank was the only one that could calm him down.

Lyn-z had him but she had him in a different way. He was not going to help her out in the way that she might want, she was still in love with him, he hoped. He hoped that there was still something that could make her stay with him. He needed her to want to help. He needed her to love him.

He didn’t love her back, and he was sure that he never would, but he definitely liked her. In the way that was more along the lines of a mentor rather than a romantic interest. There was nothing there, he was gay, but she was going to be a good killer and he needed her to think that he was going to be there for her even if he wasn’t going to be there for her in the way that she wanted.

He felt bad for her, she must have been lonely. He had been lonely before and he knew what it was like. He remembered what it was like before Frank. But there was still the fact that he was lonely again. He didn’t like feeling lonely, he had gotten used to Frank.

It was a different kind of loneliness than the one that she had. His was a biting, cold type of loneliness. Heavy and bloated like his brother’s corpse.

He didn’t want to look down at Mikey, he didn’t want to see his face, calm and disapproving even in death. He didn’t want to know how he looked, he didn’t want to stare into his eyes. He was too good  for Gerard, too good for anything that he was.

He was doing this all for Frank. He remembered Frank and he remembered why he had killed Mikey in the first place. He was still his best friend but he was no longer his brother. All he was was dead, all he was was an opportunity that he had cashed in on.

He would never breath again. He would never be again. He wondered how Lyn-z was handling that. He wondered if she was going to go home and feel terrible, see his face underneath her eyelids. He was going to. That was his little brother and he still had some compassion. He loved the little fucker, even if he loved Frank more. He just had to choose between his little brother and his lover and he chose the one that he would be happy with.

He wasn’t going to be happy sitting at home with Mikey. He was going to be happy with killing, with murder. He loved Frank more than he loved Mikey and that was nobody’s fault. That was nobody’s fault but his at least, but hey he didn’t really pick this. Fate had plucked him out of his tree and squeezed him dry. There was nothing that he could do about this anymore. He was going to have to kill, it was meant for him.

Lyn-z was stuck in her thoughts, too, trying to figure out what Gerard’s motive was, why exactly he killed one of the people he was closest to. It was the psychologist still in her trying to figure him out. He was interesting, he was an enigma. She wanted to know what he was really up to, what he was trying to do. She just wanted to get inside of his head.

He was unlike anything that she had ever come across. He was so brutal, so viscous, yet so kind and tender. He had anybody who knew who he was wrapped around his little finger. And he had the ones who thought they knew who he was wrapped around it, too. He had everybody fooled, she was sure that she was the only one that really knew what was going on.

Everybody else thought that he was innocent. And if they were smart enough to get that he wasn’t, they were definitely not sticking around like Lyn-z was. She liked to think that she was a special kind of smart, a mixture of suicidal and risk taking.

She had nothing left to lose so why not let Gerard take her along for the ride? He would make her famous, fulfilled, the next thing was the fact that she was going to make him love her. This was the best thing that she could do. It was the smartest thing that she could do. It was all falling into place. She just had to let it land.

She thought she had him all figured out, but there was still the fact that he had killed Mikey that really escaped her. She didn’t know who he was anymore because of this. Everything was skewed now.

She grunted and picked him up better. “Why’d you do it?” she asked, still trying to be quiet. As if someone could hear them. She was terrified that someone might, actually. But she knew that she was being paranoid, even if it was a big city.

Gerard was sure that someone did, but he wasn’t sure if anyone actually cared about what was going on in this soulless city. Nobody looked out the window, nobody saw them going, because nobody really cared. And everyone who would have was asleep. The city was quiet, in a hush that only the dirtiest of people could be awake through. The criminals, the rats, the bad ones, just like Lyn-z, just like Gerard. They were making their way through this town as the worst of the worst and they were going to be the best because of it.

That was the best thing about the night, it was the fact that the darkness came out to play and have its fun because the sun kept it away during the day. He was going to have his fun. And soon he would have so much that even the daylight would have to watch him, watch Frank, watch them. They were going to be gods soon enough. He was going to make Lyn-z a god. Which prompted him to answer her question.

He flicked his eyes to her. “He knew too much,” he said, simply. There was nothing more that he could do about it, there was nothing more that he would tell her unless she asked. He was sure that she didn’t want to know. No respectable person did.

She was a nice girl, and he didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want her to worry about what they were doing and whether it was right or wrong. She just needed to do this job for him and he would teach her how to kill, if she wanted to. This was all in what she needed to know. She didn’t want to know too much, though. He would make sure that she didn’t freak out and bail. He needed to make sure that she stuck around.

He needed her now. He wasn’t sure how much, and at what point in time, but he needed her. Friends were valuable. Enemies were fun and plenty, but friends were few and far between and so much more needed. And right now he was trying to keep his.

Her skin was pale and yellow looking in the streetlight, she was wearing high heels, clicking them down the stairs and sounding out who they were. They would be a problem, he knew it. But he didn’t say anything, she probably just didn’t have time to really get dressed. She was beautiful, and he was sure that she knew it.

He didn’t really care though, he was going to get Frank back. He smiled at that thought and hoisted his now dead brother onto his shoulder. He stepped into the cold slush of the world and Lyn-z followed suit, high heels still clacking, incesent and loud in his ear. He was terrified that someone would catch them, they looked a shady pair with Lyn-z still done up in her office clothes and Gerard in his more casual attire, probably littered with blood stains. He would burn the clothes when he got home. He didn’t want to be in them any longer. He was sick of them. He was terrified of what they meant for him, too. Everyone could see that he was a bad person now, everyone knew that he had killed his baby brother and he was going to kill more. He didn’t want them to know, it was all too early.

He looked to Lyn-z again and she had become a burden. He didn’t want to have to bring her along but he knew that he did, he knew that he would have to work with her. He liked her, but what she stood for was too much. He saw too much of his old self in her, the one that had loved Frank and would do anything for him, the one that had taken a life and was still shaky about if he wanted to take more.

She was the naivety the darkness was preying on, he wanted to keep her safe. But the only way to do that was to keep her with him. She would be safe with him. She would be safe if she knew how to be the darkness. Then the darkness wouldn’t be there to snatch her up and take her away.

He looked away and got his keys out of his pocket. “We’ll take the body to the park; no one should be out there at this time. We can bury him there. I should have some shovels in my trunk,” he said, sighing and opening the trunk.

Lyn-z’s heels still clacked as she ran forward to get the body. She put his head in the trunk, followed by crumpling his feet and putting the rest of him at an awkward position in the space. The way she had put him made him look like he was cradled in the arms of the trunk, automatic light shining a shadow onto his face. He looked like he was almost alive again, like he was almost a person again.

He felt a twang of regret and hastily shut the trunk. His brother was dead and there was nothing that was bringing him back. What was done was done. There was nothing more of Mikey Way. There was nothing more of Gerard Way. He was just the New Jay now. He wasn’t anything but a murderer now. He had left all of what he used to be back in that apartment, back in the frame of time where he murdered his brother for the love of his life.

He wasn’t anything but whatever Frank wanted him to be now. And that was a murderer. What Frank wanted to be was someone that killed their baby brother in cold blood. He would do it for him. He had done everything for him. Frank was the only thing that mattered. And getting him back was just the next step that he had to take.


	16. She Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here you go! a little late srry

It had happened so quickly. Lyn-z was digging away, trying to get her heels to work with her in a way that made it easier to shovel. She should have changed shoes, honestly. That was the cause of this all. But then he had happened. It was too late, everything was much too late. She was just trying to do her best. But then the clanking of her heels on the cruel metal of the shovel made her presence in the forest known.

The body was fine, being put into the ground, but the officer came up, hearing the clanging of her shoes against metal, the crunch of dirt as she moved it over the body. She wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding him, but she was trying her best. Gerard was helping out, sort of.

He had gone back to the car, to get a lamp. And then it was her, this officer and a body. She panicked. That was all, it was just panic. She didn’t mean to hurt him. She really didn’t.

 

_Her heels were loud on the shovel, ringing in her ears. If she cared enough she could vaguely hear them screaming at her to stop, to get a grip on herself and go home. She could do it, escape while Gerard was getting this lamp. She could have made it, gone home and forgotten him, forgotten it._

_But it was not that easy. There was something about it that kept her rooted to the spot, that stopped her from moving. She was loyal to him. She was always going to be loyal to Gerard Way. It was the only way that she could fulfill her existence. He was the only way that she could ake herself as good as she wanted to be, she was too meek to do it by herself. He was the only thing that would let her do this, that would allow her to be what she wanted. He was the key. He was the key to everything._

_She knew that he would be the death of her, if she stuck around too long or irked him or didn’t do the right thing. But that was a risk that she was willing to take. That was something that she was willing to do to be what she wanted to be._

_Gerard was going to be the death of her, but she also wanted to be the death of something else. And that was what brought them together. She was going to be glued to him by the fact that they would both cause catastrophes. Even if it was to each other, to the allies that they were, together._

_It wasn’t very healthy. Nothing about this was. She knew that she should get out of there. She could leave, God, she could always leave but she could never escape. She was stuck there, she was going to relive it tonight even, even after going home. She was going to stay up in bed, remembering the biting cold that was creeping into her bones, that was stealing its way into her soul. She would never forget the way that Mikey seemed to blame her, even with his absent soul. He was going to be staring down at her, looking at her, remembering the way that he was much too trusting of people that should never have had his trust._

_He was going to remember her too, but he would regret the fact that he let another person become a killer. She was just going to be haunted by the way he looked at her._

_She was going to remember the way she tried not to stare into Mikey’s eyes. She would remember the way staring at his body was worse, seeing the red on his neck and knowing what had happened. She was going to remember the fact that she was terrified of looking him in his hazel orbs. She would remember the way she listened to the sound of her own breathing, hoping that wind would whistle and blow just to mask what she was doing. She would remember; she could never forget._

_It was the sounds, how it all looked. Her foot made an angry metallic sound, she would hear it in her ears for the rest of her life. She knew what she was doing was wrong, she could feel it too. She could feel it in the fact that her heart was beating faster than a racecar. It was the sickest type of adrenaline that was making its way through her body. She wanted to forget all the bad things and keep the feeling of the high. But she knew that she could not do that. There was too much negative to ever make it into something good._

_She would have to think about it being a nice experience later. She could not focus on it now. She would not let herself. She had to remember that what she was doing was bad. But she was sure that the powers that existed, the same powers that decided her fate when she died, will never let her forget it._

_She was scared of dying. She was scared of everything. There was something about having the power that made her quiver in her fucking boots. She was going to lose that power, she was going to pay for that power. She would never get to have it again, after she lost it. And she knew that she was going to lose it. That was just what happened._

_She was scared of the sounds, scared of the fact that she was all alone in the dark with a dead body. ._

_Her foot was too loud. She was scared of that; making as loud of a sound as it was and alerting someone of her presence. That was what it did, that was what it had done to stab her in the fucking back. But it was her own fault that she was wearing high heels. She should have thought. The sound was much too loud, too much for her to handle._

_And that was what tipped the officer off in the first place. That was what made her have to do this in the first place. The sound had done the same thing to him. He had come to see what was going on. And she had to kill him. She had to get rid of this person who was just doing his job. She didn’t want to, honestly, not at first. But maybe that was the only bad thing about this equation, the fact that she didn’t seem made for murder like Gerard was._

_She was digging, trying to look away from Mikey, staring anywhere but his dead eyes. God, she never thought about how vacant a body looked when there was nothing going on with it. He was an empty house, lights on and nobody home._

_Gerard had burned his house down to the ground, there was nothing left of him. There was nothing left of the house that he was. There was just the some that was still pushing its way into her nose, trying to keep her from breathing. The smoke of Mikey knew that she didn’t deserve to breath._

_She was a murderer. She was worse than killing. She went along with it, wanted to buy into the little game. She was worse because she knew the business and the glory that she would get with murder._

_Mikey could never forgive Gerard for killing him, but he would never forgive Lyn-z for letting him die. And his eyes were staring at her, he was never going to let her forget, either._

_His eyes were more frozen than the ground itself, and she knew how cold it was. She knew how unforgiving it was. That was why she had to push her foot so hard into the shovel so the shovel would fall into the Earth better._

_She shivered, piercing the frozen ground, crunching the dirt with a little dent. She knew the drill to maximize her efforts. She wasn’t going to stop an inch in, she wanted to get this done.  Her foot went next, a heavy rhythm that was almost the death of her. That would soon be the death of someone else. She had gotten used to it, the fact that her routine was fairly fruitless but better than nothing, but this footfall around she was going to be reached with something out of the ordinary of burying the body that she had established. She would go deeper into herself rather than the ground. And she would do what she had always wanted to much quicker than she thought she could._

_She just panicked. It wasn’t her fault that she was loud, it wasn’t her fault that the ground was frozen. It was her fault for killing the man that came up to her, for killing the man that was about to sneak up on her right now. He should have known better, she shouldn’t have even been there. How funny life can get when it works out to be a cruel bitch._

_“What have we here?” he asked in the most draining and grueling of voices. He had no idea he was going to die. He had no idea that these would be the last words he ever spoke. Shame he couldn’t have said anything more prolific._

_Lyn-z felt his words on the back of her neck and she jumped. Mikey Way was half in the ground, hand exposed on the cold dirt. She wasn’t ready for this, she was caught in the middle of the act. She couldn’t do anything but this._

_She looked around and Gerard was nowhere to be seen. He was still at the car, still away from her. She would have to get to him. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do, could give her authorization to do what she was about to do herself. She didn’t want to do it without permission. She didn’t know what could happen, he did. He had done this before. He knew exactly what would happen if she killed this man. And they both knew what happened when she didn’t. So she would have to make her move or it would get out of hand._

_She was terrified of moving. She was terrified of making the wrong move. But she knew that she was going to have to. She was scared. But she didn’t have time for that._

_She hit him over the head with the shovel. The bang of that was louder than any footfall. The resulting fall of the man, hitting the ground was louder than both of them combined. She couldn’t believe that she had done that. She couldn’t believe that she was a murderer. That she was going to be a killer, just as soon as she hit him enough to get him to stop breathing._

_She heard a bone break under her. She just wanted to be a cloud, floating away right about now. But you could never see the clouds in the nighttime._

“Lyn-z! What the hell happened?” Gerard asked as he came back, face illuminated with yellow light, leaving the shadow of his face, the side that she couldn’t see in more mysterious terror. He was not going to love her anymore. He was never going to love her. She had messed up and now he would never want her.

She was trembling with the fact that he was staring at her. Judging her. This was her judgment day, she would die after this, go to the pits of hell just from his eyes, black when they looked upon her. She was terrified of him.

She clutched the shovel, she wasn’t going to hurt him, no. But he was going to hurt her and she had nothing as a friend besides this shovel, dripping with the blood of another person. Maybe she deserved to die, maybe he came to the conclusion that she wasn’t good at killing after all and she would have to die before she became a liability.

She didn’t want to be a liability. She just wanted to kill. She wanted to kill with Gerard and she wanted to be loved by Gerard. She didn’t want him to give her up. She just wanted to be loved.

She was more scared of that. More scared of the fact that he wouldn’t love her when she needed him, if she needed him. He was going to think that was her fault. He was going to fucking kill her. But what could she have done better? Nothing. She was going to die because she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He would never love her again because of a pair of shoes and what transpired when she made sound with them.

That was the most ludicrious thing she had ever heard. She was going to die because of her shoes.

She would have laughed if it was comical enough to forget the fact that he looked much too angry for her to even want to breath. This was how she would die, from being paralyzed by the look of her soon to be, never be, lover.

Her heart beat faster. His face was still shadowed and she could not answer him. Not yet. God, not yet. She gulped. There was blood on her shoes, seeping into her. She had two bodies lying around her in the darkness. There was no explaining this. She was going to make it a third body.

The wind howl and she wanted to be carried wherever it was going.

 

_She just kept hitting him and hitting him and hitting him, hands blistering and vibrating from the force of her hitting on his fucking body. He was dead, and if he wasn’t he was praying for it. She was beating him to a pulp, taking him out, killing him with any force that she could muster up to give him._

_She grunted as she swung again, loud and cutting. She didn’t want him to live. She was terrified of what would happen if she took another breath. Would her cover be blown? Would something happen if he took another breath that could damage her entire world?_

_The thought made her swing again, swing harder. She wasn’t even really hitting anything anymore. She was just trying to get herself to stop worrying. This was just something to get her anger out on._

_Gerard was still by the car, she couldn’t see him. And she kind of wondered if he was coming back. She wasn’t sure she wanted him too._

_He would kill her. He would hurt her more than she was hurting this guy._

_He had a name, he had a life. He probably had children, judging by the fact that he was older. She didn’t want to kill him. She didn’t want to hurt him. She just wanted to kill the guy that got in the way. She could have sent the other side home, to whatever family he had._

_He might have had a dog. And now it was going to die._

_Tears were streaming down her face. She was killing someone. She stopped the shovel, hands still numb, still seemingly vibrating. She wiped at her tears, smearing it with the blood that had gotten onto her from the splatter._

_She didn’t want to look down at the body. She didn’t want to move. Her entire being hurt, the corpse that was aching was now irking her._

_She was nearly crying with the fact that her arms were aching. She was crying with the fact that this person didn’t have a life anymore.  She couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop. There was so much blood. Too much blood. There was nowhere that she could step without there being any. She was covered in it, the man was covered in it. Even Mikey was faced with the fact that he was covered in blood, flecked on his face. He wasn’t safe from what she had done. Nobody was. She had unlocked the secrets of winning at life and it was not what she thought it would be._

_It was worse than that, rotted and rotten in itself._

_She didn’t want to do this anymore. But she thought of his face and she kept hitting him, falling on the floor and not even breathing anymore. There was an angry crunching that she couldn’t shake off. A sound that she would never forget. It would be in her dreams tonight, it would haunt her forever. She would never be able to forget it and she wasn’t sure if that was the best thing._

_She didn’t want to be scared away from what they were doing, but this was wrong, it felt wrong. So much more wrong than just burying a body. She didn’t want to look to Mikey. She thought that she would cry if she even dared to look at him. She couldn’t handle this._

_She wanted Gerard to get back. She wanted Gerard to make it better. He was going to make it better. But he might just make it better by killing her. She didn’t want to die. She just wanted to move on, she wanted to move on to when everything was okay and she was in the groove of killing._

_She didn’t like change but she loved Gerard. And that meant she had to live in limbo for a little while. That would mean she would just have to let Gerard take over for a little while. She had to let him kill her, she had to let him do something. He deserved to hurt her._

_She had been bad. She had been a bad thing and now she would have to pay the price. It was just part of the way that she had to abide by._

_She had killed this man. And she could feel the eyes on her. She looked down and decided that she would face what he had to give her. She wouldn’t be a coward, she was already a killer._

 

“Lyn-z, tell me what happened. Who did you kill?” he asked in a low voice, bewildered, his eyebrows were furrowed. He looked to the body, still bleeding, barely twitching, head bashed in by a shovel that was still in Lyn-z hand.  Lyn-z could swear that she could still hear him breathing if she tried hard enough, strained to hear the noise of death. It pounded in her ears and even though she didn’t want to her ears strained to hear his breath fade. She didn’t like beating him to death. He didn’t deserve to die. He was just unlucky, walking here at night, alone.

She couldn’t answer him again. She just shuffled in the blood. It was making the soil softer, the frost that was on the grass giving her mercy, being oh so cruel in reminding her what she had done. She had been a bad person, she had done a bad thing and she could never take it back. She was a killer now. She could never go back.

She was not a person anymore she was a monster. She was just like Gerard and she wasn’t sure she liked it anymore. She wasn’t sure she really wanted it.

Her friends would be ashamed of her if they knew what she had done. They would hate her, Armani would hate her. She didn’t want her to hate her.

They were good friends, over the years they had been as close as she could get with a person, without telling her of her little indulgences.

The only person she was closer with was with Gerard. He knew who she was, after a few minutes of talking she had him figured out, and he had her figured out. She was a killer. She was a murderer. And now everything she had ever loved was gone. There was nothing left of it.

Nothing left of her old life, the life that she had come to like.

But this one was going to be a better one. This was going to be the one where she killed. This was going to be the one where her and Gerard were together, if she was ever with him. If she ever got to live to the point where she grew on him.

She was beginning to regret killing this person. She was beginning to understand what it was like to be on death row, she was herself.

She was a killer now and she was going to be killed by a killer. It was the way of life, she guess. It was just what was going to happen to her now.

She didn’t mean to do it. She didn’t want to do it. She didn’t mean it, she was a good person. She was a good person who had just killed someone.

She was going to throw up. This was too much. This was way too much. It was all happening too fast. She was’t a good person, she was never going to be a good person. She was a killer now. She was a murderer. She was never going to be good again. She was never going to be nice again.

She was a killer. She was worse than Gerard because she wasn’t even good at what she was doing. She was going to break apart, she was going to sit alone in her room at night and have a fucking breakdown. He was level headed, he knew what to do about this kind of thing. She was still new, she was still an amateur, trying to play the big kid game.

She was just a kid, out of her league and out of her living. She was drowning in the blood that she had spilt. She was a killer made of something soft, cakey dough that left her a slipping blob of a newly made killer.

She was sheepish, a baby, cowardice. She wasn’t going to be scared anymore. She was going to take it, she was going to look at their faces and she was going to face what she was, who she was.

What she was was worse than Gerard, bad and made of something soft. She didn’t want to be soft anymore. She wanted to be more like him, be better like him. She didn’t want to be small anymore. She was too small.

She loved Gerard, loved the way he was. But she hated him too, maybe this was the best way to exist as a killer.

She took a deep breath, chest still heaving. She was going to look at what she had done, face the wreckage of a person. She was going to have to see what was made with her hands, with her arms and her shovel. She had to know what she had done and what she can do again. She was a killer. And she had the power of her fingers, of her entire twisted being.

She was going to look and she was going to know. She would face it, even if it killed her, scared her. She would know what she had done before she died.

She looked down at his face, crumpled in and bloodied from the fact that his face was bashed in. There were teeth out of place, blood vessels broken. She was going to vomit. She was going to throw the fuck up all over his face. She wasn’t able to do this. She was never going to be able to do this, she would always just be a wannabe killer.

She would never face this again, she would run away and forget it. She didn’t want to have to do this again. She was terrified of what she had done. Her hands were too much, different than who she was. She didn’t know those hands, even if she had fantasized about what they could do. But what she had fantasized about doing was different than what she had done. She was a killer now.

It wasn’t much better. There was nothing but alienation and blood that was left on her. She didn’t know her. She didn’t know her hands. She was a different person. She had found herself in the blood, for a good few days, for a good little while. But now it had fleeted and she had passed herself up.

She wasn’t made to do this, at least she didn’t think that she should. She was too different, too flighty. She needed something constant unless she made it different.

She wasn’t made to follow Gerard around, she wasn’t made to be in love with him, but she was. She was so in love with him it hurt. So she had to forget everything that she had done, everything that she was, that she thought she was. She had to love him and let him love her. It was the only way that she could be happy anymore.

She earnestly wanted to live. Wanted to live for him to love her.

She didn’t want him to have to kill her, she didn’t want to die. She wanted to be able to love him, she wanted to be able to hold him and care about him, even if she was terrified of what he was, what he had done. She loved him, wanted him. But she wanted to live to want him.

She knew that she had done wrong, that he was still staring at her and wanting her to talk to him. But she didn’t want to speak. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing, she loved Gerard and she wantd to be able to live. But she had to think of the right thing to say.

She gulped and stared at him, thinking back to all the bad things that she had done, all the bad things that she had been faced with. Gerard was going to kill her.

She was terrified of dying, she couldn’t look him in the eye. She didn’t want to see her failures in the murderous glint that she had only seen after he had killed Mikey, when she went over to his house. She didn’t want to see it again, because she knew what would happen to her when she did. She just wanted to love him.

She breathed, heavy, hanging her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see him, she didn’t want to face him. She was too small for this, she was too small to take it, such a coward.

Waiting for Gerard to talk, she listened, ears open, fists clenched, eyes closed. She was terrified of this. She was so scared of dying. That was why she killed. That was why she wanted to be remembered, because she couldn’t handle going away.

But she would have to die with nothing but impurity. She was just a stain, being taken out by Gerard in the next few minutes. She was a killer, she was a murderer. But she was not as good as Gerard and it never looked like she would be as good as Gerard.

 

_She covered her eyes, ready for something that was close to death, ready for anything that would take her away from what she was. She didn’t want to do this anymore. Her fingers clenched  and she dropped the shovel. Her chest heaved and she didn’t want to see anything. She didn’t want to smell the blood, she didn’t want to remember. It was making her sick, hurting her throat. She was drowning in it, the copper taste that was falling into her mouth. She didn’t want to taste it anymore, she didn’t even want it in her body. She just wanted to be rid of the violent liquid. It meant something different now, she was not alive, she was not anything but a killer now, a monster._

_She didn’t feel anything. She didn’t feel happiness or excitement. She was just numb and a little sick feeling. She wasn’t going to be able to do this anymore, she couldn’t do this anymore. She was going to throw up._

_She didn’t understand what was going on, she didn’t know what she was feeling if she wasn’t feeling what she had heard about, what she had thought she would be able to feel._

_She didn’t want this if she couldn’t feel anything. She wanted it to mean something, she wanted it to be different. She didn’t think that it would be this boring, this nothing._

_She had given her pure soul, she had changed the way she had existed and now there was nothing. This was not how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be better, she was supposed to feel something amazing. She didn’t want this to happen, she didn’t want this to happen to her._

_She was supposed to feel something good. There was supposed to be something good. Then why did she feel so bad about what she had done? Why did she already feel so guilty? So empty? She didn’t know what she had done wrong. Did she actually do something wrong? Did she have to wait? Was it going to kick in soon? She didn’t want to wait, she wanted instant gratification, she wanted to know what she was doing was worth something. She didn’t want it to be fruitless. She wanted to make a difference, she wanted to make a difference for herself, at least. She had killed him and now she just needed to know where was the part of this where she felt good about it._

_Where was her high? Where was the fact that she was supposed to be excited about this? There was no adrenaline. There was nothing that made her want to kill again. Maybe it would set in the next time she killed. Maybe it would get better when she wasn’t freaking out._

_She felt guilty for it still. She wondered if it would reverse; she wondered if she would feel bad now and then get better later, feel the itch and the satisfaction of the kill when she was lying in bed. When she was supposed to feel the regret._

_The regret was now, seeping into her clothes. She was getting colder, waiting for Gerard’s light and dreading it. She didn’t want him to come and get her. She didn’t want to have t obe faced with the fact that she actually hated killing, hated him._

_She loved Gerard, and she wanted to love killing. But the high was still not kicking in, not after a few moments of letting herself sit there and think about what she had done. She was just feeling bad about it, there was nothing that was good and that terrified her._

_She wanted the high to come and ease her troubles, to take her away and make Gerard fall in love with her, but she didn’t think it would and that freaked her out. She didn’t want to deal with that. That was something so fucked up, so messed up. She wasn’t made for this. She was only made to want, she was only made to be greedy._

_That would be fucked up if it was all just a bad mistake, if she couldn’t be able to get what she wanted. She was just made to want, she was just made to wish that she could have things that she couldn’t. And when she got them she would just throw them away. She didn’t want to do that, she didn’t want to do that with her new life, if she were to get one._

_She didn’t want to throw her life away. She didn’t want to throw anything that she would gain, no matter how meager, she wouldn’t want to throw that away, either. She just wanted to be happy, she just wanted._

_She wanted Gerard, and the way he looked when he smiled and when he was covered in blood. She wanted to kill, she wanted to be just like Gerard. She wanted his love and what they would do with it. She wanted and she wanted and she wanted. But it would probably be best if she didn’t do that, if she couldn’t fulfill her dream. She was just meant to be malcontent. She was always made to be an onlooker. She was always meant to want._

_She was selfish and she was ignorant, she was a killer without really knowing what it meant to kill or what it meant to die. She was out of her league, drowning with her tiptoes just floating out of the water. Her head was barely staying up, she was being taken by the current. She didn’t want to leave his side, but he knew how to swim and she didn’t. And he was in much easier waters, she was made of nothing. She was left with nothing. She was getting farther and farther away from a person she wasn’t even next to in the first place._

_Gerard was going to hate her if she couldn’t do this. She wanted him to love her. She couldn’t walk away, she couldn’t go home. She had already killed. But he was going to hate her, he was going to think that she was bad at this, that she was a liability and not worth it. He was going to hate her and he wasn’t going to ever want her again. He would kill her._

_He would end her life when all she wanted was to give it to him. She didn’t want to die. Who would love him right then? Not her apparently because she wasn’t good enough to love him. She knew that she wasn’t good enough to love him. But she wanted to anyway, because she knew that she could be better than Frank was. She could be sweeter than Frank was._

_She wanted to cry. She had already ruined her life. He wasn’t going to let her run away. And she wasn’t going to let herself run away. She was going to face what she had done, she was going to atone for her sins. She was bad at this, she wasn’t made to do this. It was easier if he killed her. It would just be easier if she died. Even if she didn’t want to. Even if she was just resigned to letting him kill her. She still loved him, still wanted him. But there was nothing that she could do. There was nothing that would make him want her, that would make him want to keep her. She was supposed to be dead now, she was already dead to him._

_She didn’t want to be dead, she just wanted to love, she just wanted to love him._

_She thought of his lips and how they would look on her. She thought of his smile and the way that he would give it to her if she was good to him, if she was good for him. She just wanted to be good. She just wanted to make him proud._

_But there was nothing she could do. It was not fate that they ended up together, there was nothing that he would want from her. She was nothing to him now. She was nothing to anybody, now._

_Armani would want her dead when she found out what she had done, she would hate her, her partner would hate her. And Gerard already hated her. There was nothing for her, no people for her. She was going to die alone and without anyone to want her._

_She was a killer now, she wasn’t meant to mingle with the humans, but she wasn’t meant to mingle with the gods. Gerard was too good for her._

_Gerard was too good for anybody unless he chose them. And he had chosen her, but not in the way that would make her worth anything to him after her job was done. If she thought she was going to die when she entered his apartment, she had another thing coming. He was going to kill her. He was going to hate and he was going to hurt._

_She had done something without him knowing that she had done it, he was going to resent her. She didn’t want to be resented, she just wanted to be held. She just wanted him to hold her._

_She missed the warmth that she felt from being loved, even if she had never really loved before, there was still some feeling of it when she was still resisting temptation. There was nothing for her anymore._

_She didn’t want to be faced with that, she was more terrified of that than she was of dying, than she was of the dead body that was lying face down on the floor. She was terrified of being alone._

_She was scared of being a nothing._

_There was nothing that she could do. She was going to have to stay here forever. She was so bad. She was so bad at everything she had done, she wondered why Gerard had even wanted to choose her. She wondered why she thought that she could be so good as to woo him._

_She was too skittish, too afraid, too_ loud. _There was nothing that she had done right except fuck up. And that wasn’t supposed to count, there was nothing in this equation that was being made better. She just kept thinking and making it worse._

_But she had Gerard. Gerard was good. Gerard was the shining beacon. Even if he was going to kill her, even if he was going to punish her or hate her, he was going to make it better, which was more than she could answer for Armani or anyone that she had known before, as a person._

_She breathed easier. He would fix it. He would make it all better. He would make sure that it was alright, that they were alright. He was going to fix it, fix her. He was going to make her better. They were going to be better. He wasn’t going to kill her, he wasn’t going to hate her. Or, maybe he was, maybe he had already done that._

_Who cared? He was going to fix this, and if she already had herself, he was going to pat her on the back. He was going to think that she was better than she was. That made her heart grow warm, she wanted to be wanted by him. She wanted to be needed._

_There was nothing beautiful in the fact that she was inexpendible, at least for a little while. It saved her life and gave her something to do, something to really live for._

_She sighed and let herself think for a moment, wiping blood off of her face. She was covered in it. She could even taste it, seeping into her mouth, hiding on her lips. She didn’t want to lick it off, that would be wrong, that would be weird. She would get upset again if she had to taste the fruit of her monstrosity._

_She wasn’t going to be upset. She wasn’t going to get upset. She wasn’t going to think about it even, she was going to let Gerard fix it, she was going to let Gerard take care of it. She would just sit there, thinking about him, thinking about what he had done for her. He had done so much for her._

_She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them back up again there was a light, dancing like the person who was holding it was walking. That must be Gerard .That must have been Gerard. She was terrified, but it was alright when she couldn’t see what he was, who he was. There was nothing, not yet._

_But then she could see Gerard and she just froze. Those moments maybe be her last._

She didn’t want him to think that she was weak. She didn’t want him to think that she was not worth it, not up to it, it was honestly in her best interest that she was kept  and that he was nice enough to think that she was okay for now.  She never wanted him to think that she couldn’t do anything that he could, she might die if he doubted her. She just wanted to prove herself and she was sure that this was not proving herself, this was just making herself look like an idiot. He probably thought she was more like a liability now. She didn’t want to be that. She didn’t want to have to be something that he gave away, that he casted away.

And hell, she would be lucky if he let her just get away after botching his plan. She would be murdered. He would kill her. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to be killed. She just wanted to love and she just wanted to kill.

She could see him get a little more restless, looking around and she wanted to throw up again. She wasn’t going to get nervous, wasn’t going to get nervous, wasn’t going to make it seem like she was nervous. Even if she was, even if she was terrified of what he might be able to do to her, she didn’t want to seem like she was getting upset.

She just wanted to seem calm and cool. But she couldn’t. There was blood everywhere and she was shaking, not just from the cold.

She gulped, wiping off more blood, smearing it onto her clothes and off of her hand. She stood with her fists clenched and body shaking from the cold wind that the blood was making her feel. She was out here in nothing, she was becoming nothing. Her clothes were ruined, she would have to burn them, throw them away. No, burning would be best. She didn’t ever want to get caught. She didn’t ever want them to have any connection with what she was doing.

She just wanted to kill. She just wanted and wanted and wanted and wanted. She wanted everything and had to work for it. So work she would.

She wanted to be something to him. She wanted to be his everything. She had to beat Frank out of that position, he had claimed it. But she was coming up, she could come up and make him fall in love with her. She was going to make him fall in love with her. Even if it killed her, and she was sure that it would.

She took a deep breath, raggedy. She answered him, finally. He was making his own ideas about it, she didn’t want him to have to do that, she didn’t want him to think it was worse than it was. She had to explain herself. She took another gulp, mouth as dry as cotton. She would have to explain what she had done.

“He saw. He saw what I was doing. Was I wrong?” she asked. Her voice was so shaky and she felt so small. She didn’t ever want to feel like this again. She wilted under his stare. Her soul shook at his confused stare. He looked even darker in the nighttime. He looked like a shadow, belonging here. She didn’t. She could feel it in his stare that she didn’t belong here. She was different than he was.

She was bad. She wasn’t made for this, she wasn’t built to be a killer. But it was too late, she was going to have to do this. She was never going back. Gerard wouldn’t let her. She wouldn’t let herself. She was going to have to let Gerard own her now. She had killed for him now. There was nthing for her anywhere else now, she had dug her grave so she had to sleep in it.

Each second Gerard didn’t answer was another second that took her life away, was another reason for her to die going through his head. She didn’t want to die and she didn’t want to be killed. She didn’t want him to hate her, she didn’t want to be wrong.

See, now she was not wanting, she couldn’t make up her fucking mind.

She was antsy, trying not to hope around because she didn’t want to make it seem like she was scared. She didn’t want it to seem like she was worried, or was weak. She wanted Gerard to love her. Was that such a crime? She wanted Gerard to think that she was good at what she was doing, was that a crime? She wanted, she wanted, she wanted, she wanted.

She gulped. She didn’t want Gerard to say anything wrong on what she did. She didn’t want to be wrong, do wrong. She just wanted him to love her. She just wanted him to want her. She couldn’t stand being anything but loved. She had spent so much of her time alone.

She just wanted him now. Wanted his praise, wanted to be like him. The blood was caked onto her face and she wanted to get it all off. But it boiled under his speechless stare.

She was back at the apartment again. She just wanted him to speak, to tell her anything. She wanted him to make his move, his judgment. It was killing her to not know if she was in the right or if she was in the wrong. She just wanted him to make his judgment so she could move on. She felt frozen. Like she was burning under his stare and freezing in the dark of his pupils.

Hazel eyes could never look so black. Could never look so heartless. She knew that she was in trouble, that this wasn’t going to end well for her.

She fixed her heel that was sinking slowly into the ground, watching him. Her hitching breath was the only sound that the two heard, next to two dead bodies, two rotting corpses, themselves decaying with the weight of the quiet that was settling on their shoulders. She began sinking back into the Earth again but didn’t dare move.

His mouth opened to speak and she anticipated daggers, shrinking away from the surprising words. “You did the right thing, Lyn-z. I think you might be ready.” His voice was cold but full of genuine support.

She looked back at him and the light reflected, give him that little twinkle that she had craved to see ever since she had seen him on the news that one day, that fateful day. He believed in her. He wasn’t angry, wasn’t mad that she hacked up a cop. Frank had done it before, Frank had killed one. But that was different, Gerard was the learner. She was now his apprentice. But he still loved her. He still thought that she was right, she did right. She could die right there.

Gerard believed that she was ready to kill with him, ready to get back Frank. She didn’t even care about that part, she was so happy. She just cared that Gerard deemed her worthy. She was worthy of him, worthy of what he was and what Frank was. She was going to be like them.

Her heart swelled with joy. She clutched the shovel tighter. She was going to be a killer! She was going to murder! Her fingers went hot around the wood of the shovel. She could feel the splinters that would arise in a few years from wear, she could feel blisters on her fingers getting ready to protest her action. None of it mattered. She was going to be a killer. She was going to be loved. She could not think of anything better. And she would give anything more for Gerard to want _her_ more. That would complete it. That would complete her.

Gerard didn’t speak again. She was still waiting for praise, smile on her face apparent. She couldn’t keep it hidden. She couldn’t keep him from knowing. He would always see right through her, always knew her better than she even did.

But that was just because he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t anything but himself and that was amazing to Lyn-z. She envied him, idolized him. He was something that she was never sure she could be.

But she was one step closer to being like he was. And that made her heart flutter. She was going to be something beautiful.

Still she waited for him to say anything, give her more of anything. He just nudged the body that she had just freshly murdered with his foot. “Put him in with Mikey,” he said.

She nodded, hair bouncing, she would do whatever he said, happy to, eager to. He was going to love her. She was going to be like him. She had to do the best that she could. She didn’t want to let him down. She wanted to be perfect, immaculate, without sin and made of it. She was going to be a god soon.

She was so excited, she bent over digging the hole twice as deep, twice as wide. Big enough for another body. She was going to make him proud of her. He was going to love her, want her, want to be with her. She was going to be something that people feared.

These words just kept running through her brain, digging into her head. Maybe the fact that she had killed would be far too sweet to make her regret it. Maybe that was how killing got you, it took you and it never let you go.

She never wanted to leave. So that was good for the both of them. She wanted to kill more. She had no idea it could feel this good, she just had to wait until the shock had passed. She just had to wait until there was the pleasure of validation. Gerard thought that she did a good job. Gerard thought that she was ready. Gerard thought that she was anything but scum, something to murder.

He was going to love her by next week, at this rate. She was giddy at the thought of kissing him, touching him. Killing Frank would be sweet. She was going to be loved! And she would get rid of all the competition. She would treat Gerard right, she would make him love her.

She looked back at Gerard, setting down the lantern next to him and grabbing his shovel slowly. He looked even more tired in the light, but that was just because he was worried. She was going to fix that. She was going to turn him into something amazing, just like he was doing to her.

He would be free of worry, free of pain. He would be loved and he would love. They would be happy together. They would be so happy that they wouldn’t even need to kill, but they would anyway because they were so good for each other. She was going to be good for him, good to him.

She wouldn’t hurt him like Frank would. She wasn’t going to choke him, or hate him, or want to hate him. She was going to cherish the fucking ground that he walked on. She was going to make him feel great for the rest of his life.

She promised herself that. She promised him that. Where was Gerard Way all her life?

He made her want to be better, be the best. He made her come out of her shell, and that would hurt like a bitch for everyone but him. She didn’t have to hide anymore, didn’t have to cower away in fear at the fact that she was a monster.

Gerard was a monster, too. And they would be monsters together. They would be gloriously awful together. She couldn’t wait, she just couldn’t wait till Gerard came to his senses and got Frank out of the picture.

She smiled at him as he went to help her. His smile was sheepish, half assed but something that acknowledged hers. He was going to love her. She promised herself that.

He started to help her dig, moving out of the way of the new corpse that joined the party, mangled and brutally beaten. She couldn’t believe that she had done that. She couldn’t believe that she had the power to do that. But ever since she was a child she had done anything for love, everything for love.

Gerard was the only thing that mattered now. And she had had to protect him. She killed somebody to protect somebody, just like Gerard did. Now she understood why he had to kill Mikey.

He loved Frank (even though she despised that fact she still understood it). He loved Frank so he had obviously had to take away the biggest threat to them being together. It was just a little more personal than her random cop that she had to beat to death because he was encroaching on what they were doing. She couldn’t have let him get away. She had to kill him because he would have ripped them apart and she hadn’t even gotten to be with Gerard yet. She hadn’t even gotten him to love her. That would be unfair.

So she now knew what they were digging for, what they were killing for. She knew what they were getting blisters on their hands for. They were doing it for love.

They were alike in that sense, they always were.

She could feel them coming together, the sound of dirt crunching together and grunting. They were working in unison and she loved the fact that he was like her even more now. She craved the feeling of being with someone, being a part of something and she was a part of this. She was a part of the fact that they were killing for love.

Love was the most powerful thing, the strongest thing. It was the best thing. It could make you kill. It could make you hurt, maim, abuse, beat. It was such an amazing feeling you would do anything for it. She was doing anything for love. She was going to be loved back because of that, she prayed to God that this helped Gerard see the light of her loving him.

He was going to see soon. And he was going to love her. He was going to want her. And then everything would be perfect.

They would be perfect.

She just wanted to be perfect.

Was that something that she could not ask for?

Her life was going to be amazing because of Gerard, and it already was. That was pushing her to work harder for him, to show him what true love was. He was going to get it soon. And if she didn’t, it still wouldn’t have been in vain. It wouldn’t have been in vain because that was how much Lyn-z loved him.

She loved the way he looked when he killed, the way he looked afterwards. She loved the way he was still so innocent and diabolical. He was everything that she could ever want, everything that she could ever need. She loved him and soon, he would love her.

But it was all still so unimportant. Just being around him was enough. It was honestly more than she could ever ask for. She loved him so much. She loved him so much that it hurt to even think about, but it was the only thing that she could think about. They were going to be something amazing when he recognized what they had. And even now they were doing something amazing.

Gerard was helping her and she was helping him. They were the perfect team, the best match. They were going to kill the entire world together. They were going to be amazing. They were going to be artists, painting with the blood of all their fucking victims. They were going to be beautiful.

Gerard must know that, he must know that they were going to be something good. Or else he wouldn’t have chosen her, wouldn’t have her here, digging a grave for his little brother. And she wouldn’t have killed that cop if it weren’t for him and she wouldn’t be feeling as good as she was now if there was anything out of place with the way they were.

There was nothing wrong with what they were doing. If there was Lyn-z would feel it. She would know that something was up. But no, they were perfect, she felt perfect.

She smiled at Gerard again, and even though his head was bowed in concentration, she felt that they were really bonding. This was the closest she had ever been to Gerard and she only wanted to get closer.

She wanted to fall in love with him, she wanted him to fall in love with her. She knew that in time it would happen, she just had to be patient. Gerard would come to his senses soon, and then they would murder the world together. They would be ten times worse than Frank and Gerard. They would love each other more, kill more.

They would be so much richer than Frank and Gerard ever could be. They would be so much more better, in every respect. She just had to get to him, and get to him she would.

She was going to replace Frank. She was going to be good enough to replace Frank. She would show Gerard how talented she was, how much she loved him.

She had killed for him, that cop was dead because of her, because of how she felt for Gerard. She killed him because she cared about Gerard. She didn’t love anyone else nearly enough to kill a random stranger for them.

Gerard was the only one. He was always the only one. She loved him, God she loved him.

She smiled at him again, shoveling her way through the dirty, so close to him she could feel his body heat, brushing against her personal space. They were going to be together and they were going to be together soon.

They were going to be something beautiful, this was just the start. It was only going to get bigger from here, only going to stronger. She had found her way inside of his secrets, inside of his companionship, now she just had to cultivate it, make him hers.

She knew that she would do that soon, that he would be faced with the fact that she was better than Frank could ever be.

She would make him see, he would realize soon that she was better than him. She was better than anyone because she was made to serve him. She was made to be what he wanted her to be.

She would be better than Frank at everything. She just had to get inside of his head, she just had to plant the idea that she was better than Frank was; he still thought the world of his lover. He was doing this all for him, of course. But he was soon going to be faced with the fact that Lyn-z was simply a better lover, that Lyn-z was a better killer, could give him what he wanted more than Frank could.

It was absurd, if Gerard had anything to say, because he loved Frank and he only wanted to be with him. He didn’t like girls, he liked his lover, the lover that he had been through everything with, the lover that treated him so well.

But Lyn-z was not going to wait, she wasn’t going to think about it, she was going to make her move on Gerard. She was delusional, but he must admit he was giving her some cause for celebration.

Lyn-z thought it was apparent that he was going to magically fall in love with her, especially if she did well, and although he could say that she was being lovely at all of this and that she was very useful, she wasn’t anything to fall in love with. At least not by his standards, at least not by him.

There would be someone for Lyn-z. There would be something for Lyn- z to keep up the tradition and make her legacy with. She didn’t have to try to squeeze her way into his.

She could be her own person. He was confident that soon she would be, she was too good of a killer to be wasted.

She was naïve, of course. And doubtful, but besides that she was promising. She was born with the darkness, they all were. He unleashed it for her. He unleashed her on the world.

She was going to make him proud. She was going to give him so many bodies. But he was never going to fall in love with her, and that was just the worst news that the novice girl would never be faced with. He didn’t want to have to break her heart.

He needed her. He needed her to help him. He wasn’t going to get Frank out of prison if it wasn’t for her. She was going to be useful and she needed to be in love with him to be useful. So he could not scorn her just yet.

He knew that he was playing a dangerous game, that soon enough Lyn-z could hurt him, but it was not time yet for her to know of her true fate. She had to be kept secret, hoping, wanting to help. She couldn’t know or else she would surely be after him. And he didn’t need any more enemies.

So he would use her till her use was over. He would let her think that he was going to fall in love with her.

He looked at her, smiling to herself as she shoveled, fast and proud and excited. She was eager to please and he would let her, didn’t mean she was going to get anything. He had to be cruel to her, it was the only way to go. But he would indulge her, for now.

He felt a little bad, she looked so happy. She looked like she really liked helping him, really liked the fact that he was going to fall in love with her.  

But feeling bad was for lesser beings, so he went back to shoveling. And he thought of Frank. Maybe he would let Frank kill Lyn-z after all. Maybe when she stopped being more useful than annoying he would let the girl go, let her die at the hands of a jealous lover. He hoped to god he was jealous.

That would be the best to see, all the betrayal, the hurt. Everything that she would feel in that instant would be potent and thick.

He was getting riled up just thinking about it. He had to calm himself.

He went back to digging, not looking at her but hearing her intent breaths. He would let her dream, for dreaming was kind of nice and he knew that he had done it about him and Frank once in a while, dreaming of either a better life or a more extravagant one. Everyone was guilty of dreaming, this one was just not going to come true, and that sucked for Lyn-z. But it would be excellent for his lover, to kill Lyn-z would give Frank pleasure.

He knew that it would because he hoped that he would get wildly jealous. He had no reason to be before, but now there was going to be something new to their relationship, and they could use a pickmeup after all the bad things that would transpire just the next day.

Lyn-z didn’t know anything, didn’t notice anything. She just thought they were going to ride off into the sunset. And maybe they were, but the thing was, she wasn’t going to come back. She was just going to be lost to the greed that was in her heart, ignorance rotting her out, the love that she had for Gerard decaying her.

She was going to suffer. She was going to suffer just because it looked fun enough to do. She was much too trusting. She was everything that Gerard couldn’t let himself be.

He was too bad to let her live. Frank was good, Frank loved him so much that he let him live. But he was not as good as he was, he was not as sentimental towards her. He didn’t love her. Even if she loved him.

He would kill her. He would let Frank kill her. That would be a little freedom treat.

But he needed her now, he would let her live now. He need her to get to the only thing that mattered. She was vital, for now. And that would save her life till Gerard got rid of her, or decided that they would let her live a little longer. Her fate was in his hands, he was the puppet master.

There was nothing that she could do about it. He was her God, he was the thing that was going to turn her into what she wanted to be, and he was ultimately going to be her murderer. (Not If Frank wanted to take a gander out of delicious jealousy.) He was going to absolutely own her. God, this was going to be fun.

He smiled down at his little brother, turned blue and slack. He wasn’t going to disapprove any more. He wasn’t going to do anything anymore. He had killed him, just like he was going to do to Lyn-z. She was going to join the boy she so pitied, soon enough, when Gerard had no use for her. Him and Frank ruined everything, killed everything. It was what they did.

He could not wait to do it with her.


	17. Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give feedback you guys! i know its a little slow rn but i hope for it to pick up soon!

Lyn-z was cleaning herself up, looking at her reflection in the dingy little bathroom that Gerard had. They had come back to his place after burying both of the bodies, four in the morning calling them back home for when five rolled around and the early birds started to do their jogging in the park. They didn’t want anyone to come and get them. She was terrified of people coming

Five AM was the time for people to start crawling around and for the scum to retreat back into their caves. So they did, they went back to Gerard’s apartment and they went to think about what they had done.

Gerard was in the living room and he was waiting for her to come out and join him in mourning his little brother. They were going to sit there in silence until it was time to get the lover that she did not want back. She didn’t want to have put up with hm, but she knew that she would have to. She would do it, for Gerard. She would let Gerard have whatever he wanted because she was already getting what she did.

He was there, letting her fall in love with him .He was letting her be with him and want to be with him. He was teaching her how to kill. She was getting everything she ever wanted besides his love. But she would work on that.

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. She could almost imagine the blood still being stuck in her black strands. She didn’t know if she wanted it there or if she wanted it gone. She didn’t want to be tagged as a killer, but she still wanted people to know that she was better, that she knew something that they didn’t.

She was standing there, getting rid of the blood that had made its way to her clothes, to her body. She was cleaner now, her blood was singing now. She looked like she was undercover, she was going to go into this and no one was going to know that she had killed, that she wanted to kill more.

She was going to be alone in this with Gerard, they were going to kill, master and student. She was already learning what she was supposed to do. She was going to do it, this was going to be their time to shine.

She was going to make Gerard fall in love with her by being so good, they would just leave Frank behind and go fall in love together. She just wanted to be with him. They were going to be amazing, they were going to be beautiful.

She wanted to be with him and only him. She didn’t want to have to follow him and Frank. Frank wasn’t the one that she was in love with, Gerard was. Gerard was the one that she was doing this for.

Gerard was the only one that she had ever loved. He was the only person that she would ever want to love. He was the best thing to ever happened for her.

She smiled to herself, thinking about him, eyes dark and circled with sleeplessness. He was an angel, he was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen. She loved him so much, she just wanted to be with him. God, she just wanted to be with him.

She smiled at herself and it looked as if she had never killed. She never changed, she was never different. There was something about how she looked that made her wonder when she was going to wake up from this amazing dream.  He was too good to be true, he was perfect. And he was letting her be with her, close to her.

She looked in the mirror a little more, staring herself in the eyes. They were sparkling in on themselves, happy and joyful. She looked like somebody had just kissed her. She looked happy, electric. And she was, she had killed. But no one could ever believe that she was a killer.

She didn’t look like a murderer, she looked like Lyn-z. She looked like someone who wanted to kill but didn’t have the guts to do it. Now that was all changed. She was a killer, she was a murderer. She had ruined someone’s life by ending it.

She wasn’t a wannabe anymore. She was a murderer. She was the best thing that she could be, the best thing that she had ever been. She was better than who she was a few days ago. She was made of something better.

Who she was a few days ago was different than what she was now. She was a killer now. She was sharper now, smarter now. She was everything that she wanted to be. She was a good killer. Or at least she would be, soon. If she wasn’t now, Gerard was going to make her a good killer. He was going to teach her more about what she was going to do, what she should do.

She smiled at herself. God, she couldn’t believe that she had killed someone. That was so amazing. Her heart skipped, making its way into her throat. She remembered what she had done, what she was still going to be doing. She was a killer, she was amazing. She was going to be even more amazing soon enough. The more people she killed was more power that she gained. She couldn’t wait to be a better killer.

She straightened the shirt that she had been given, bigger than what she was used to, a different cut. It was Gerard’s shirt, she had gotten blood on her own if you could remember correctly, reader. He also let her borrow some pants of his.

She couldn’t believe that she was wearing Gerard Way’s clothing. She couldn’t believe that he had allowed her to do this. That he was opening up to her in ways that she could never have imagined in her wildest dreams.

This was the most amazing thing to ever happen to her, it was like a dream. She never wanted to wake up. She never wanted this to end. She wanted to stay like this forever, in this hazy state of love forever. She loved Gerard and she was happy with Gerard and she never wanted this to change.

She was so happy right now. She never wanted to get Frank, she never  wanted to stop feeling this good. She wanted to be with Gerard forever, to stay with him forever. She just wanted to be happy with him, good with him.

He was the best thing that ever happened to her. Her heart fluttered every time she thought about him, every time she was with him. It was like she was being kissed for the first time every time she even thought about him.

She was going to be with him, she was going to stay with him. Her heart hurt at the thought of being without him. She wanted to be with him her whole life.

She wanted to twirl around. She was so happy! The world was in the palm of her hand. It was under her dirty high heels, still caked with blood.

That reminds her of something. The fact that she had gotten blood on her clothes, caked and covered in the red that was screaming at her when she got home that she was bad, that she was unclean. She was sticky and wet in ways that she didn’t want to be.

She couldn’t stand herself. But when Gerard gave her his own clothes, well, it was amazing. It was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She could feel him all around her. She loved him so much, she remembered him, as much as she had felt with him.

She could imagine herself and him, what they did together when they were the only ones. When Frank was gone and it was just those two. She didn’t want to have to be the one waiting for him, she just wanted him and wanted to be with him. She was going to get what she wanted, she was going to have what she wanted.

She could smell Gerard on the shirt, musky and gentle. She was in love with him. And this just proved that he was capable of loving her. They would be together soon, they would rule the world together soon.

She smiled again to herself and twirled. She was so goddamn happy that this was happening to her.

Even if there was some bad things that she had to take along with what she was doing, there was still the floating that she felt in her belly that was making her feel like she was a fucking balloon.

She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to think back to what she had to do to feel this way, and she found it peculiar that she couldn’t look back on it and fall in love with all the terrible things that she had done.

She remembered bashing that cop’s face in. She remembered the blood everywhere, she remembered everything that she had done in vivid flashbacks like she wasn’t the killer but merely a spectator. T felt like she had watched a snuff film late at night on her computer and was just waking up to remember bits and pieces.

But she still felt floaty, still felt like it was the best piece of film that she had ever seen.  She was art in her own right.

The birds were chirping now, yelling her name, protesting against her happiness, against what she had done that she was definitely not proud of doing. That was the weird thing, she was not proud but she was proud of what doing those things turned her into. A killer worthy of Gerard’s love. She was going to be worthy of Gerard’s love soon enough.

She was going to be so good that she forgot all the bad things that she had done, she was going to get rid of the fact that she was scared of killing. She was going to love killing and she was never going to feel bad about what they had done. She wasn’t going to care about who she was killing and what she was ruining.

She wasn’t going to be kept up at night by the fact that she hated what she did during the day, she wasn’t going to bother with what she was doing, if she was bad because of it. She was going to be mindless. She was going to treat herself.

Even if those thoughts kept her up at night she was still in love with the fact that Gerard was going to love her now. She had done this all for him. And the bags under her eyes proved it. She couldn’t sleep last night. Neither could Gerard. So they stayed up, staring at each other and hoping that nobody found the poorly concealed bodies, talking once and a while but never moving.

There was an air of fear that hung over them when the early morning was just careening over the horizon. But the giddiness and prosperity that came with the pure impurity of the true morning was something that she could not keep to herself.

She thought back to staring at blood stains, watching the clock tick and listening to her own breathing. Something had changed between them, something had shifted so they were stoic, made of nothing but stone. She was terrified of what she had done, of what they had done. And Gerard knew it and Gerard felt it, too.

She didn’t want to get caught, that was the most fun she had had in ages, that was the most fun she had had in her entire life. Nothing she had done could compare to what she did now. She didn’t know that she could be that free. She didn’t want to get caught so she just sat there, paralyzed by the possibility that she could have been. Just like that, her life was ruined and she was turned into a killer.

She was a killer, but damn if she wanted people to know that she was yet. That wouldn’t be part of the plan, it would ruin it. It would ruin her dreams to be what she always wanted to be. She was a killer but she didn’t want someone to know that yet, she was not ready. She was not ready for people to be touched with her dirty secret. She was too enclosed in the fact that she had hidden this her whole life.

This was going to be alien, this was going to be something that was way too new to her. She was scared of coming out as a killer, there was something about it that was terrifying to her. She had always hidden it and now she was going to be out in the open, people were going to know that she was a killer, that she was a murderer and she was a terrible person.

She didn’t want to be known as a bad person. She wanted to be a good person but she knew that she was going to have to deal with what people were going to give to her. She was going to be labeled as a bad person and she was going to have to deal with that.

There was no fun if there were any consequences. And she knew that there could be big ones that went along with what she was doing. She was playing a dangerous game and she didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want to get caught and she didn’t want to have the dream of hers, the one that she had had for the entirety of her life, to be gone in an instant.

It was like a drug that kicked the fuck in way after she wanted it to, when she was already beginning to regret what she had done. That was what made it so great, she was skipping rocks on the sea of blood and just a few minutes before she had been drowning herself in it. It was the contrast, the juxtaposition that made all of this so great.

Last night had been amazing, it was like the first time that she had had sex, or falling off a cliff just to be taken back up by a bungee cord. It was exhilarating. It was an experience, spiritual and new. She was someone different now, she was better now, better than anyone, everyone. She knew something that normal people didn’t, she had faced death and she was not afraid of dying anymore. Only afraid of being forgotten, which was the ultimate death.

So she would keep on killing, she would go on and do what she was truly best at, the thing that she was most passionate about and she would kill. She would kill and she would kill and she would kill. Gerard was going to love her because she was going to change for him. She was going to be better for him. She would do anything that he wanted her to because she loved him so much.

She knew that she had changed from killing, became more confident from that one act of murder. But there was nothing that could change her love for him. There was nothing that could ever make her want him less. She was always going to be in love with him ,she was always going to want him and she was always going to feel that alien heartbeat when she thought about him.

She was something different now and she knew that people envied her, reveled in her beauty. She was something different than this population. She was something amazing and she wasn’t to be messed with. She had killed before, she had killed just a few hours ago and now she knew what it was like to be the most powerful person in the world, even if it was just for a moment. Even if she was only the queen of the world for the second that her knife slid through someone’s chest. It was still the fact that she had

She smiled at herself in the mirror, getting off the last flecks of blood that seemed to be etched into her skin. She was a killer now, she was just like Gerard. She was going to be better than him, too. She was going to conquer the world and then everyone would have to do what she said. She wasn’t going to bow to her love of Gerard like Gerard was doing to Frank.

Sure she was going to love him and she was going to let him love her. This was the whole reason she was doing this, but at the same time she was still preserving her own legacy. She didn’t want to just ride off of Gerard’s, she wanted it to be a jumping off point. Even if it meant that this would be harder to keep herself and make herself, she was going to do it.

She could never surpass what Gerard and Frank were, so she wasn’t even going to try. She was just going to do what she wanted to, she was just going to be her own person and see where that took her. She was going to make a name for herself, Gerard was just going to help her get there.

She smiled at herself. She wondered what her style would be. She wondered what she was going to do that was different than Gerard and Frank. She didn’t want to do the J’s like they did. She wasn’t going to copy them. She was going to do her own thing, but she still had no idea how she would incorporate it into what Gerard was doing.

She wondered, washing her face, if she would just keep going with the shovel thing. It was messy, yes, and it was tedious, but she would continue to use it. It was pretty fun when she got used to it and it left some brutal corpses. She felt bad for anyone that would find that body.

She smiled to herself, wicked and sharp. They would find it soon and then she would be a suspect. They had to get out of there. She didn’t want to be seen as a suspect.   She didn’t want to be seen at all. She wasn’t ready for the world to know that she was a killer.

Gerard wasn’t ready for him to be known as a killer either. It wasn’t part of their plan, he wasn’t ready to be like Frank. Frank wasn’t ready for Gerard to be like Frank. It was part of the delicate plan that they had set up that everyone stayed in the dark of their existence.

The world didn’t know of Gerard and they surely didn’t know of Lyn-z. They would soon.

The water ran when she twisted the nob with her fingers, an angry soft spray of white water. She wished it was blood, but there wasn’t any time for that. There wasn’t any time to want to be able to kill. They would have to do it soon enough.

The birds were angry at her, screaming her name to tell her that she was ready for this but she shouldn’t do it. They were trying to keep her from ruining her life anymore. But she was going to do it anyway. She couldn’t go back anymore.

She was already too far in what she was now. She was a murderer now, she couldn’t go back to have a normal life, she never had a normal life before. She wanted to kill but she had kept it in. Now she was just living what she wanted to. She was being who she wanted to. She was never going to go back.

She washed her face, making sure that she wasn’t suspicious looking. She knew that she had killer etched all across her face, but maybe that was the paranoia. Maybe that was the fact that she had stayed up all night, and had the bags under her eyes to prove it. She looked guilty, and she was terrified of that.

She didn’t know if someone would be able to see what she was when they walked in and started shooting up the place to get Frank back. She didn’t want him back but she knew that she had to help get him out. She wouldn’t have Gerard if she didn’t help him out with this. So even if she didn’t want to do it she would have to do it.

She would have to walk in there, with guilt on her face and she would have to put her life on the line for someone that she didn’t even really like. She was going to get noticed, people were going to know that she was a killer, that she was guilty even if she didn’t want them to know them.

She didn’t want to be seen as ugly when somebody else saw her. She didn’t want them to think that she was a murderer, no not yet.

She was panicking from just that. She was worried about them hating her, about Armani hating her. They were friends. They weren’t going to be friends after she left, after she had murdered and Armani knew.

She would know. Armani would know that she was a killer, that she was a murderer. The second she would see her was the second that she would know that she was a killer. She didn’t want to be, she didn’t want to be a killer. She just wanted to kill.

She knew that she would be dirty. That Armani would see that she was a killer. She was stained, tainted and everyone would be able to see it, especially once Armani was. It would be like the Emperor’s new clothes. Everyone would see when she was pointed out on the fact that she was a murderer. Armani would ruin this for her. She wouldn’t be able to go through with this when people knew that she was a killer.

They knew her, saw her. She was  going to be spotted the moment she moved to go in. Gerard was used to killing and hiding. She was only used to hiding what she wanted to do. She didn’t know if she would look the same to the people that saw her, if she would be uglier. She was terrified that she would be.

But she knew that someone else thought she was gorgeous. Gerard thought she was good, thought she was amazing. He, even if she wasn’t in love with her yet, was still going to think that she was a good person, that she wasn’t bad and that she was doing what she should be doing. She didn’t want him to ever think that she was bad and she was so happy that he was open to what she was doing.

She would have never been a killer if it wasn’t for him and she was so glad that he liked her, even if he didn’t love her. He would love her soon, but it was the fact that he believed in her so much was amazing. She loved him, god she loved him. She loved him because he believed in her. He thought that she could be a good killer and he thought that she could still be beautiful even if she was a killer.

They were both going to be beautiful, she knew that they were.

She smiled at herself, cheeks dimpling in her joy. She was going to be something better. She was something better than anyone else because she killed. She and Gerard weren’t bad, they were good, they were amazing and loved each other and they were going to kill for each other, with each other. They were going to be amazing. Even if people ended up thinking that she was bad, gross, that she and Gerard were dirty.

She was still beautiful, still radiant. It was the fact that she had killed. She was a murderer and it showed and it showed in the best way possible. But not to the people that it didn’t count for.

She didn’t care what old friends thought of her. What she looked like to them was absolutely nothing to her. She was something amazing now. She was good now.

She did another once over before walking out to Gerard again, who was sitting on his couch, examining the blood stains from afar. His eyes were dark, watching it with confliction in his eyes, aversion in the way he sat, looking at the stains like they would move from the carpet and onto him.

He had stated that he didn’t want to touch him, that she was to do that. She would take it, she would oblige. The more she listened was the more he loved her. He would love her, want her, bend over backwards to be with her soon enough, she just had to wait and she just had to kill.

Gerard looked to her, a quick head turn and a stony face. He looked worried, lips pursed in silent contrition. She knew that look, it was the one that she had caught on his face last night. He was torn about what he did, still guilty on the fact that he had to waste his little brother. He had to kill the one thing that led him to his old life to jump the fence and run away. He couldn’t stay there forever, and they both knew it.

But Gerard, part of Gerard, wanted to stay there. Wanted to be safe in his little heaven with his brother. He didn’t want the danger that the rest of him had chosen. But the small part, was going along with it, ever so hesitantly.

The small part showed in his face, in his body language. In the fact that in that second he lookd to her with pleading in his eyes. _Please, please, take me out of here. Please, please, reverse what I have done._ But that was over now, the past meant nothing because it was already finished and could never be turned.

He would have to deal with what he did in the nights like she was going to, like she had done. But she still wanted him to be happy.

She didn’t want him to hurt. She didn’t want him to suffer. She was going to make him feel better or die trying.

This was a simple thing to make him feel a little bit better about what he had done, there was no need to put her life on the line for this one.

She smiled at him, soft, simple. “Chin up, Gee, we’re getting out of here soon.” His face was etched with hopelessness and she wanted to tell him that it would be okay, that they would be okay. That what he did was done and there was nothing that he could do to change it. He was always going to feel bad about it if he kept sitting there, staring at his brother’s remains.

His body would crumble into ash soon and he would leave more bodies to decompose with him. He wasn’t going to be alone, there was nothing to feel bad about.

They were going to get out of here and they would populate heaven with more people, more bodies. They would fill the afterlife with friends for Mikey. He would never be alone.

They were going to get out of here, they were going to get out of her e and they were going to rule the world. They were going to kill everyone. He didn’t need to be so worried. Unless he was worrying about something that she wasn’t seeing, something that was deeper than her that he had to deal with.

She didn’t want him to have to worry about anything. She wanted to make it better for him. She wanted to make him feel better. But she didn’t know how to make him feel good if she wasn’t given the information that was running through his mind.

She hoped that he wasn’t worried about anything that was too detrimental. She didn’t want there to be any complications. She just wanted them to be able to get Frank and get out to wherever they were going. She just wanted to be with him, alone with him, as soon as possible.

She was still hopeful that they would be happy, maintaining that her and Gee were going to be superstars. The most famous killers since Bonnie and Clyde. They were going to be better lovers, though. They were not going to die at the hands of the law. They were going to go out of their own volition.

They were going to be amazing, they were going to love each other and kill with each other. Who cared about Frank? He was just going to get in the way of what they wanted to do. But that was not her call to make. That was Gerard’s, he was the one that still had the attachment to him, even if he was not as good as either of them.

He was weak, and not in the good way, not in the Gerard way. He was a bad killer. He just killed and then he left, there was nothing to him. There was nothing to him like Gerard or Lyn-z had. Lyn-z was going to have her shovel, Gerard was going to have his ‘G’ and his words. He was going to be something amazing and Frank was just going to get in the way of that. Frank was going to get jealous.

Frank was going to try to kill him again and Gerard didn’t understand how bad that could get for him. He wouldn’t understand how close he had already gotten to dying. He was flirting with disaster. He was breaking disaster out of prison.

She shivered to herself. She didn’t want Gerard to die. She didn’t want him to die. She wanted to be like him, just like him, and she wanted to love him, as well. If he died she would, too. And there was no fun in that. There was no fun in dying when it was alone and out of desperation. No, she wanted to kill Frank. That was the best course of action. But she knew that Gerard would have no part in it.

He loved Frank, and only Frank after all they had been through. After all that the two of them had done to Gerard he only loved Frank.

Gerard loved Frank still, after almost dying, and after her doing her best to please him, to get him what he wanted, he didn’t love her yet. She would have to work on him, she would have to make him want her even more than she was already trying. But she would also have to back off a little. She would have to give them some time, some space. But she would have to calculate her moves, also. She was almost there, she didn’t want to give Frank the upper hand, she was going to get Gerard to fall in love with her, she was going to be the one that made him want her.

She was going to have him, she was going to be loved. And she was going to be loved by Gerard because she had already given him so much of what she was, so much of who she was she didn’t want to throw it the fuck away.

She was getting a little angry, a little frustrated at him. She didn’t want to have to do this anymore, play this game that he was making her participate in. She just wanted to be with him, she didn’t want to play cat and mouse games. She wanted to love him and she wanted him to love her. She didn’t want to have to vie for his affection.

She just wanted it to be given to her. She was so frustrated. She was so in love with him and he can’t see a thing. It was nearly hopeless.

Her spirits were diminishing while she was trying to raise Gerard’s. He wasn’t going to see her be sad, no he couldn’t. She had to act happy for him. She didn’t want to be killed because she made it too apparent that she was discontented with what she was given by him, so gracious and giving. She didn’t want to make it seem like she wanted to kill Frank.

Because Gerard would get upset at that. She didn’t want to make him upset. She just wanted to love him, just wanted to love him. And if she had to love him quietly she would do just that. She would love him quietly, from the sides. And she would let Frank have him till she was too hungry for him to handle it anymore.

She would stab Frank in the back when she got the chance, although it would not be easy. She could sense that he wouldn’t trust her. She was bad at hiding her emotions for Gerard.

But she would have to hide them if she wanted to kil and she wanted this plan to work. She had to be careful, she had done it before. And for longer, she had made it seem like she didn’t want to kill. But now she had to hide her love.

It was the same thing, really. She was going to let Gerard and Frank be together till she didn’t want them to be together anymore. Till she got powerful enough to break them apart and have Gerard all to herself.

That was the only thing she wanted. If she could pick between killing and Gerard she would pick Gerard. But if she played her cards right, she could have the both of them with just a little patience and just a little venom. She would show Frank what she was made of. And it was a disastrous and consuming love for Gerard Way. That was something that she knew that Frank would never have for Gerard.

He had tried to kill him before. He had sent him away. She would love him, she would never try to hurt him. She was just going to take care of him. She would try to take care of him the best that she could. She wanted him, wanted to love him. She would be faithful and loyal and loving.

But he still love Frank and she had to respect that. She had to let him do what he wanted for a little while. She had to give him space. She would give him anything. Anything that he wanted.

She forced a small smile in his direction, trying to downplay the hungry look that was in her eyes. She didn’t want to make herself seem weird, she didn’t want to be suspicious. He wouldn’t want her if she couldn’t be trusted or anything like that. She had to be careful with her plan, she had to be more secret than she had been before.

He sighed and smiled back, but it was more out of courtesy than anything. He wiped a hand on his face, he still looked tired. Looking away from her, she could tell that there was something more that was bothering him. Something more than the worries of him not being able to get back to Frank, something more than worries of getting him going wrong.

She wondered if he was having doubts, if he was wondering if it was really worth it to get Frank. That would be the best situation for her, but the most sucky for him. He was having a crisis of faith, of course. But she was going to get the love of her life and she wouldn’t even have to sit through him and Frank being together.

It would be terrible to be the third wheel. Especially when she loved Gerard. She didn’t want to have to deal with it. She didn’t want to have to put up with the fact that he and Frank were going to be giddy at escape.

They were going to ignore her and she would have to lose everything that she had gained from being with Gerard alone. He was going to have him again, he was going to take him away from her.

She was going to be faced with the fact that he only loved Frank after a while. Anything that she had gained from being with Gerard was going to be erased.

She didn’t want to fight to make him love her. She just wanted it to come naturally. But she would have to try to make him want her, she would have to fight for his attention.

With her brow furrowing, she went to sit next to him on the couch. She wanted to see what was wrong, she wanted to help him. She was in love with him, but she wasn’t selfish. Even if he didn’t love her, she would always love him. That was what people in love were doing, selflessness was part of who you are as a lover. She was going to give him whatever she had, even if it killed her. She just wanted to be able to love him.

This was the best thing that he had ever given to her. This was the best thing that she ever had. She wasn’t going to throw it away because she was selfish. She was going to deal with Frank and she was going to love Gerard from farther away than she wanted.

So she put her hand on his shoulder, gentle and barely even there feeling. She felt a little weird doing this, this was the only time that they had ever made contact. It sent tingles through her skin, it felt nice, like something she shouldn’t have been doing. She liked it.

It was something magical and it sent electric through her fingers, down to the bones.

“Gerard? What’s wrong? What are you so worried about? It’s clearly not Frank,” she said. Her fingers slipped a little more firmer around his shoulder, getting used to the sensation and craving more of it. She was sticking herself in the crevice of who he was as a person and soon she would be wedged all the way in there, inseparable from him. She was going to make him love her, she was sure of it. One measly little touch at a time, she was going to make him fall in love with her.

Her voice was soft and her eyes were softer, large petri dishes of cultures and bacteria made of love, swirling with the possibility that he didn’t want Frank anymore, that he wanted her. That would be something amazing. She would love him if he loved her. She already did.

So she stared on at him, waiting for him to answer with her soft voice and her big eyes and her leeching hand, stuck in the most innocent of spots with the most devilish of connotations. And he did not answer her. He stayed silent, like he had before when she had first entered the apartment, afraid of him and afraid of what he might do to her.

It was not that he didn’t care about what she had to say, he was listening to her, however so futilely, but there was something that he couldn’t share, something that was bugging him more than he wanted to admit. He didn’t want to talk about it yet, it wasn’t time to.

It would be time to when the morning hit enough for Pete and them to group up, eight AM and counting. They were going to be together and they were going to get Frank. Even if she didn’t want to get him, like she had expressed before, she would go along with the plan for the cance to be with Gerard, for the chance to end up with him.

Even if she hated Frank with a passion, she was going to help get him out. She didn’t want to be thrown aside by Gerard. She was going to love what he loved. She was going to stay relevant to him for the longest that she could. She just wanted to be with him for the longest time possible. She knew that she didn’t want to be expendable, she didn’t want him to throw her away. She loved him and she knew that if she ever fell out of favor he would kill her.

It was a life or death situation that meant that she was going to have to straddle the line between doing what would be in her best interest and what Gerard wanted her to do.

She shivered again.  Gerard looked to her, knowing what she was thinking. He could tell whatever she was thinking. She was thinking that he wanted her. She was thinking that he wanted to be with her.

She was wrong, but it would be hilarious to let her think what she was going to think. It was hilarious to let her thinking what she was going to think about him. So he let her, and he would play with what she thought he was thinking.

We turn back to her, reader and we let her go rambunctious with the thoughts that she had, the hope that was growing in the pit of her stomach and then falling with the thought of Frank. But she tried to stay as optimistic as possible.

They were going to get Frank out and they were going to live a happy life. But he was starting to have doubts about that life, he was starting to have doubts about caring about him as much as he used to.

But he could never say that out loud, if he said it out loud than it would become true. It would become fact that he didn’t love Frank anymore. And he did!

That was the weird thing, the fact that he was going to have everything he wanted, right when he didn’t want it anymore.

He shook his head, wiping off her hand from his shoulder and moving away. It was her, she was doing this to him. She was putting it in his head that Frank didn’t love him, that he didn’t love Frank.

She was trying to sabotage them. She was trying to tear them apart.

Well he would tear her apart. He would hurt her, he would kill her. But that last one was for later on, reader. But he was going to hurt her now, he was going to make her feel pain for trying to be with him. He only wanted Frank and was insulted to find that she wanted to tear them apart, like they weren’t made for each other.

He took a deep breath and stared at her with faux eyes, making them wide and vulnerable. He was going to play with her emotions, he was going to give her what she wanted till he wanted to take it away. She would die from what he was going to do.

She loved him and he hated her.

“Lyn-z, it _is_ about Frank, but not in the way that you would think. It’s… it’s complicated.” His head went down and he tried to hide his smirk as she spoke next.

He was going to make her fall in love with her even more because he was going to give her hope. He was going to give her something to work with and then he was going to take it away from her. She was going to fall so hard because she had already bruised herself in falling for him.

She was going to get burned so bad. He was going to ruin her life. Frank and him were going to ruin her life.

He wanted to smile, he wanted to tell Frank about what he had done, his vlever idea. But he didn’t want to let her know what was going on in any way. He wanted to keep it a secret and he wanted her to help him get Frank back.

He let her think that they were going to fall in love. He was going to let her think that they would be together. That would put her in her place. That would make her stop loving him.

If he wanted to have her as a friend, he was going to have to make her stop loving him. Frank would want to kill her if she was in love with him. He would get too jealous if he thought that she was going to love.

But then again, it was a little fun. If he wanted to kill her he could. There was always the opportunity that he had. He was going to be able to do what he wanted to her and he could have fun right now. It was the best of both words.

“What’s wrong? What’s complicated, Gerard? You can talk to me.” Her voice was so soft it was crooning but he would make her jagged soon enough, she would hate him soon enough. But not before he used her and spit her out, not before he played her. She wouldn’t even know to hate him before he fucked her over badly. She was too innocent.

He was too good for what they were doing and she would learn that soon. She would learn that he was a bad person, that Frank was a bad person. That they wouldn’t ever be in love because he was only in love with the worst of the worst and that was Frank. He would never fall in love with her, she was a good girl.

He was going to ruin her fucking life. He was going to use her and he was going to never give her what she wanted.

He was going to sell this to her for something to do before they went to get Frank. He was going to mess with her, even if it was just for a little while.

He sighed again and looked away. He bit his lip, wobbling it. Getting into character, he turned back to her and spoke in a whisper. “I don’t know if I love only Frank anymore.” He darted his eyes up and looked away from her. He hoped that he was a good actor and he wasn’t tanking this.

He hoped that he could make her think that he was in love with her. If he couldn’t, she was not going to trust her. She was going to think that he was fucking with her. And he was, but he didn’t want her to know that.

He was playing her like a fiddle and she was just taking the beating that he was giving her. She wasn’t even getting that she was the punchline to the joke in his head. It was so funny he wanted to laugh at her, but that would ruin the atmosphere. That would ruin his great big joke.

Inside of her head, Lyn-z was also laughing, not because she was one big cruel joke, but because she thought that he was falling in love with her. She thought that her plan was working when really Gerard’s plan was, infinite times better than hers. She was never going to know that though, he was always going to keep it to himself.

Her heart was leaping, skipping beats and doing a tap dance. Gerard Way was in love with her! Gerard Way was in love with her! But there was still the fact that he was in love with Frank, but now he was falling for her, this was good. This was great, she didn’t even have time to do this before, but now, now there was something. She had something from Gerard and it wasn’t cold shoulders or brush offs.  She was going to jump for joy if she wasn’t terrified of fucking this up.

She kept her happiness to herself and worked on what he was saying, she wanted him to say it. She wanted him to talk to her, to tell her that he loved her. That would bring her the greatest happiness that she had ever had, more than killing, even. This day was going to be the best day of her life.

She had no idea when she had taken a life, that her day was going to get better than it already was. Gerard was already in love with her, she was on her way to be a true killer. This was all so amazing, she didn’t even know how she could have any doubts at all.

Everything that she had worried about seemed to pale in comparison to how amazing this all was. She was being faced with how beautiful it was.

She was silly to worry about herself, doubt herself, before she felt it. She should have just known that she would have. She just had to be patient.

And now she didn’t have to be, Gerard loved her back. Gerard cared about her, too. This was something so amazing, something she couldn’t have ever asked for. Gerard loved her. Gerard wanted her and wanted to be with her.

Her heart raced with that thought. It wasn’t a thought anymore, it was a fact. Gerard wanted her.

This was the best day of her life, this was the best thing that had ever happened to her.  Gerard wanted her.

Sure he still wanted Frank, but also wanted her. He wanted to love her and he wanted to be with her. This was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Gerard was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Her heart was screaming with excitement. She was going to be in love with him, he would never get rid of her now. He was just going to love her. He was just going to love her.

She still had to get rid of Frank, had to take him down before she could rise up more. It was the only thing that she could do that made any sense. It was the next step in all of this, if Gerard really loved her.

She was going to have to kill Frank. She was going to have to sabotage what they were going to do. Then Gerard would love only her. Gerard would have to love only her because the other choice, the other one clamoring for his affection would be gone.

He was not going to want to be alone, he had her. He would only ever have her after she killed his only other lover, her only other competition. He would want her. God, would he want her.

She smiled at him, wide and blindingly happy. She couldn’t get over the fact that he wanted her instead of Frank, that he wanted to be with her instead of the person that had given him everything.

Frank had taught him how to kill, he had taught him how to be the kind of person he was. But he was still willing to give that up, to become an independent and love Lyn-z and Lyn-z solely. That took guts and that took love.

He smiled back at her. There was a moment between them, stopping to let them be for just a little while.

There was something that was being said with their eyes, something that was being spoken only be the fact that they were staring at each other. Their eyes said all that they needed to communicate. All that Lyn-z wanted to hear was in his irises. It was a dream come true.

They were so close, they were so near, almost touching, just barely kissing. She was so close to him and she knew that there was the permission to get closer to her. There was the fact that she could be with him that was make a sweetness boil in her soul. There was sugar in her blood, waiting to rise and caramelize.

She didn’t dare look away from him. She just let herself breathe in the fact that he was so close, so close to kiss. She licked her lips and she contemplated going in for it. She wondered if it would be to soon to get herself to kiss him. She wondered if it was too early of a move for them to touch each other in the way she wanted to. She just wanted him, god. She just wanted him. More than anything, she would give her life to touch him.

He was the most amazing thing that she had ever had the pleasure of being this close to. She didn’t know if she was ready to fulfill her dream, she didn’t know if she could make this the best day of her life. It was too risky to think of. It was too risky to do.

Before she could change her mind again, the moment was gone. Gerard had turned around and looked away. He didn’t want to kiss her, not yet. And that was completely okay. That was something that she was completely cool with, because Gerard was the one that called the shots when it came to this, not she. She was just the spectator. She was just the one watching what was going on. He was the orchestrator. She was just the player. Not even that, she was just the one who was in the audience, in awe of what was happening, in awe of what he was doing.

He was an artist of death. He was the most amazing person she knew and he was the most amazing killer. He was so delicate, so raw with everything he did. She could only dream to be like him and the amount of time she took to get closer to him was more time taken that was studying who he was, that was watching what he was and what he was doing. She wanted to be like him. Andif she couldn’t be him she wanted to get as close as she could to the real thing.

There was just something about him that pulled her in, that made her excuse everything that he might have done that was bad to her. He could kill her and she would love him even more for it.

He was the master, she was the puppet. And she accepted that she wasn’t something that was going to run the show anytime soon. So she didn’t protest when he moved away, she didn’t care. She was too awestruck that she was ever allowed to be in that close of quarters with him.

There was something exhilarating about it. About him.  He was amazing.

She stared at the side of his face, the side that was facing the television that wasn’t on. He wasn’t looking at her, but she knew that he figured that she was watching him. Who wouldn’t?

He looked a little upset. She scolded herself for moving too quickly for him, for trying to get in his business before he wanted her there. They were going to kill his lover, or at least she was, she had to give him space. She had to give him some time o breath and think about this.

She would give him some space. She could give him some space.

She moved back into the bathroom, his head didn’t rise. He just continued to look at the television, the tar colored screen bearing nothing for him, nothing like she could give to him.

But no, she would give him space. That was what he needed. He needed to slow down. She got that, or at least she tried to.

She washed her hands for the fifth time, imagining blood on them. A bird chirped outside, a soft trill that signified that the sun was coming out and it was time for greetings.

Soon, soon she would kill Frank, whether Gerard liked it or not. Soon she woud destroy the only thing that was standing in between her and the love of her life.

Frank didn’t deserve him, no one did. But she would prove that she was the one most worthy. She would kill him and then she would have Gerard all to herself.

Gerard was sitting on the couch, thinking about what he was going to do to Lyn-z when this was all over. He had thought about keeping her, as a pet, if you will. But now she was too close to him, he would have to explain to Frank what was going on. He would get upset if he thought Gerard was cheating on him.

He didn’t want there to be a misunderstanding, and he didn’t want Lyn-z to think that they had a chance together. He didn’t want her to fuck up his plan and think that she could call any of the shots.

He should have never let her get that close, she should have never let her get within those few inches. He would have never kissed her, he doesn’t like girls, but the fact that he allowed her to put her face that close to his for such a long period of time was just asking for trouble.

And he was going to get it in spades. He couldn’t talk to her about this, she would never get it and just get angry.

But he would definitely have to monitor her, see what was going on with her at all times when they left.

The birds were screaming at him to get his ass in gear, to talk to Pete and to really set this up to orchestrate. But he couldn’t shake the dirty feeling that he was getting in his stomach from this, like somebody had dropped lead into his drinking water.

He sighed and stood up, looking away from the blank television. He wondered what people were saying about him, or rather what they had done. He wondered if they had ever found the two bodies yet. He hoped not, he didn’t want to see his baby brother’s face, didn’t want to see his body.

They would show the worst pictures, they always did. They would show him covered in dirt, covered in the hate that Gerard felt for him in that moment. He didn’t want to see that. He didn’t want to be subject to the guilt that he had been feeling all night.

He didn’t want his baby brother disrespected like that, either. He would be shown him in his worst state, in his dead one.  He wanted to see the best pictures, the smiling pictures. He wanted people to know him as a person and not as a victim. He didn’t want him to be a victim, even though he had done that to him.

He didn’t want to be shown what he had done because then other would know him for what he was, a killer. He didn’t want to be out like that anymore. He didn’t want to be like that anymore.

He didn’t want to be bad. He wanted to be good, he wanted to be good for his baby brother. He didn’t want to be bad anymore.

He shivered to himself. It was so hard to resist evil. And it was too late to choose the good that he so wanted to choose. He didn’t want to be bad, but he had no choice anymore.

He wanted to be good, even if it was just for Mikey. Even if it was in vain.

But he had to get Frank out, he couldn’t think about it. He didn’t have time to think about it. He needed to get Frank out, he was the love of his life. He was the most important thing now, he was the only thing that mattered because he was the only thing he loved that he could keep living. He had to kill Mikey and he would have to kill Lyn-z (even if he didn’t love her and would never love her). Mikey was the only thing that he had ever loved and he had to kill him.

He had to get rid of him and now Frank was the only thing that was left. He was never going to let him go. He was never going to let him get away from him.

He was going to get his lover out and they were going to travel the world and they were going to murder. He was going to be together with Frank again. That was the best part out of all of this. He was going to be with the only person that loved him for him.

He had killed Mikey to be with Frank, this was the trade off, the sacrifice that he had to make. There was no harm in it, nothing wrong in it. He was just going to kill dozens of people today. He was going to get Frank back, he was going to get him back and Frank was going to love him again.

He wanted to be with him. He just wanted to be with him. He was going to kill with him and he was going to kiss him. His blood was starting to boil with the thoughts of what he was going to do when he got to Frank,

He was probably going to cry and then he was going to grab his hand and he was going to run as far away as they could. He was going to fall in love with him again. They were going to be in love again. They were going to make things right again. He couldn’t wait. So he wasn’t going to.

“Lyn-z! Let’s go!” he shouted down the hallway, tugging on his jacket. He wasn’t going to rest until he got to Frank again, he wasn’t going to let himself calm down till he kissed him again. He would be with him again, he just had to be with him again.

He made sure he had a gun and he made sure he had his phone. This was going to be the best, this was going to get his entire mind off of Mikey. He was going to be in love with him soon, he was going to make Frank fall in love with him, too. He was going to be grateful enough to love him again.

He wasn’t tied to this place anymore. He was moving on, he had burned all his bridges and now he was making his way into what he wanted to do. He was going to kill land he was going to kill with Frank. He was going to hurt people and he was going to hurt them with Frank. He didn’t need anyone else besides him. He didn’t need anything else besides his love.

There was no one else to love him, there was nothing else to distract him. He would be with Frank, forever.

There was no Mikey anymore. There was only the corpse in the ground that he would be convicted of if he wasn’t careful. That was why he had to go, he was going to be convicted of four murders if he didn’t make his way to Frank already.  He was going to be put in prison with no way of getting to Frank. Then their adventure would truly be over.

There were only the corpses and there was only Frank. Those two things were the only things that mattered to him. They were the only things that ever seemed to make any sense. He killed and he loved and that was the only thing that he did and the only thing that he was going to do.

He sighed and smiled to himself, making sure the gun was secured in the pocket. He didn’t want it flying out or anything. He didn’t want to be left without a weapon, and it was a sort of a calming thing, something he did to make sure that he was going to be oaky and that Frank would fix everything once he got out of prison. This was what he did, he fixed things, he fixed Gerard.

He wasn’t going to make his baby do any work after they had defeated everyone and ran for cover again. He was going to treat him well and eh was going to take care of him. Gerard wouldn’t have to do anything that he didn’t want to do.

And that was a good thing because the only thing that he wanted to do was kill, that seemed to line up nicely with their plans.

He smirked to himself and waited for Lyn-z, feet shifting from side to side as he wanted for her to get out of the bathroom, a call to arms that was waiting on a loyal soldier.

She would be loyal forever to him and he loved that idea. She wasn’t going to leave his side in that battle, and they were going to get Frank back without a problem and they would have another person in their party. They were going to have another person that can kill with them, they would be able to kill even more people.

His blood was hot with the fact that he was going to kill, that he was a few hours away from seeing the love of his life again. He was going to kill _and_ he was going to get him back. This was going to be a good day. This was going to be a bloody, bloody day. This was going to be fun.

For some unlucky officer, maybe not as much.


	18. Changing of the Seasons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to shorten down the goal to an even 187000 all together so these chapters are going to be much, much shorter than the rest of the book because honestly it's going to be nice to end with a more concentrated, better written and less stressful few chapters. (Sorry this is so late, also, i've been swamped for school.)

Pete could feel himself shaking at the fact that he was to be met with the apex of his criminal existence. This was the most important thing he had ever done. This was going to be the most important thing he had ever done. This was the start of his new life, symbolic and meaningful. This was spring cleaning.

When the buds on the trees were starting to come in, the grass was starting to turn green and the snow was melting. He was going to be a new man, a new person, so far away from everything that was rotten and dead. He would get out of this eternal winter and paint everything red. He would be with his friends, with people he cared about and were not likely to hurt him.

They were going to make this their debut as their team. They were going to be the most deadly crime of the year. They were going to be famous, and even though that was not what Pete did this for, he knew it was Gerard’s motive, and he knew that he was going to be even more brutal because of that fact.

He was curious to see what Gerard could do, what he would do and how it would look. He wondered if he could deliver on how brutally he was killing already.

If it was anything like he had seen on television, like he had seen in person, even a lot of people were going to get hurt. There was no going back with this. They had to cut all ties, they had to run away. He couldn’t come back for Mikey, he couldn’t even try.

This was going to be the bang of a red dwarf turning super nova, but it would stay red, get redder, bleed out into the sky. They were going to be something beautiful, Pete would make sure of it and Gerard would deliver on it.

Mikey had given him up. Mikey had turned his back on him and he was none the wiser.  So he was going to get away, get further away from the very thing that he had wanted. He was going to get the second best and he wasn’t going to be bitter about it.

Even though it still hurt, even though it still pained him to think of Mikey walking away, to think of Mikey needing and loving him any less than he already did.

He could imagine him walking away again, turning his back and walking into the crowd. He had lost him. In that instance, he had turned into someone else that Pete did not know. And Pete had morphed into the very thing that Mikey had always thought he was.

Everything that he had done to get him back, everything that he had done to make him fall in love with him, whether it was the first time or the countless other times that he had fumbled along to get him back were gone. There was nothing left of what they had once had. They were strangers, and Pete was upset that that was all that they could be anymore.

They would never had anything again and he was hopeless with the fact that they probably weren’t anything but a distraction. That was what he was, he was a distraction.

And now Pete would distract himself. Now Pete would lose himself in murder, something that he oddly hadn’t done in a while. He was going to get out and do what he was best at. And he would keep on doing that.

But before he could think about anything that had to do with the future they had to get out of there. They had to get out of there, break all ties and leave. They couldn’t stay, they couldn’t visit. They had to get away and never look back. There was nothing for him, nothing for Gerard and Frank there anymore. It was just the winter, they were going to chase a new summer. They were climbing towards and abundance of violence, ripe for the picking, juicy and sweet.

But Pete wanted to look back. He wanted to look back and see Mikey smiling at him. He wanted to see Mikey, happy and proud of him. He didn’t want to be bad, he didn’t want his lover to think that he was a bad person.

But he didn’t have to, he wasn’t his lover anymore. And that was the most painful about all of this. Was that he would never get him back, that he would never have him back. He had lost him, for good now. And there was nothing he could do to get him back.

But he had given up everything that he had tried to give Mikey. He had given up every attempt, jumped ship and changed course with his own body. He was following Frank now. There was nothing he could do about it, his friend was the one he chose. Crime was the life he chose.

And Mikey was too pure for that, he was too good for that. And he didn’t want to put him into that. He just wanted him to be happy. He just wanted to let him live. But he was fighting, the selfish part of him wanted him back. He was waiting for him to call him or something like that, just waiting for him to want him to come over, hyperventilating over the phone and needing him.

He just wanted to be needed.

But Mikey didn’t need anyone. Mikey didn’t need him and he didn’t want him. He just wanted to be left alone, and Pete wanted to give him everything that he wanted.

So that was what he was going to do, he was going to leave him alone and let him live.

It was the best thing that he could do for the love of his life. Love wasn’t selfish, it was selfless and Mikey would be happier, do better when he was without Pete and what he brought, what he reminded him of. He deserved to have someone who loved him, someone who didn’t make him feel bad. Someone who didn’t remind him that his brother was a murderer and had gone behind his back and brutally murdered people.

He didn’t deserve what Pete made him feel like. He didn’t deserve to feel like he was being used like he had told Pete he felt like around him all the time. He wanted him to be happy,  he wanted him to live.

But he was still harboring some feelings. He knew that he would never get over this, he would never forget the love of his life. He was always going to want him, always going to want to sleep next to him.

There was just no avoiding that he was always going to yearn for him. But he could kill to fill the time before he himself died. He didn’t have to stay hung up on Mikey for his entire life, there could be spaces where he wouldn’t care.

There could be times where he would let himself be and just want to murder. He didn’t have to think about him all the time. But right now he was still caught up, still worried still hoping that he was alright. He could do that, he could mourn what they had. For the moment, he could let himself care about him and him only.

He wondered what he was doing, if he was happy right now. He wondered if he was settling down into bed. He wondered if he was sad, crying for him. He wondered if he had accepted that Gerard killed, if he let himself truly believe that his brother was out and about ruining people’s lives.

He wanted to cuddle him, even if he had stopped mourning the loss of his brother. He wanted to hold him just to make sure that he was still breathing. But he would never do that again, he could never do that again. And it stung every time he thought about it. Forever was a very long time to be away from someone you love.

He knew that he shouldn’t think of it, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted Mikey and he wanted to keep him happy. But he knew that he could never do that. Mikey was the kind of person who was happier when they were alone. He was the kind of person that was happier when he wasn’t surrounded by filthy people like his brother and his once-lover.

Mikey was pure. Mikey didn’t need to be tainted. He didn’t need to be hurt. He could just live the life that he was meant to and Pete could live his. They were too different, they weren’t meant to be together and he just had to accept that. He just had to accept that they weren’t lovers anymore and they would never be lovers again.

He knew that he should just leave him alone.

But it was hard when the other side of his bed was so cold. It was hard when all he wanted to do was hold him, touch him. It was hard when he was such a tainted and selfish human being. He was bad. Mikey was innocent, Mikey was pure. He was good. He was the only good thing that Pete had ever touched.

He wanted to undo all of time so they could start again, so he could live in a world where Mikey could love him without any inhibitions. God, he would give anything just for Mikey to be able to love him freely and for him to be able to love Mikey.

It wasn’t that much to ask for, was it?

Apparently it was, because they were so different. But he knew that he was a bad person. He knew that he would never be able to have Mikey because of what he had done long ago, what he was about to do in the name of crime and in the name of loyalty. He didn’t deserve Mikey.

He was still a bad person and no amount of love in the world was going to change that. He was always going to be this kind of thing, he was always going to be a criminal.

He wished Mikey wasn’t so pure so they could be criminals together, so they could be just a big band of bad people. But no, he would never get Mikey back, he would never have him because he was too good and Pete was too bad.

He understood, he would get over it. Mikey wanted to live his life with something else, with purity and innocence. He didn’t have to stand for violence. But Pete was going to live by the blood and die by the blood. That was just two things they were incompatible in.

He was always going to be a killer. He was always going to be friends with Frank. He was always going to be something that Mikey didn’t need, something that he didn’t want. But there was no going back now. There was no time to do anything else, to be anything else.

He had to get Frank out. He had to go in and get him with Gerard with little semblance of a plan. They would do the best that they could, even though he knew that it could fail horribly. He could fuck up spectacularly. They were risking their lives, their existences as criminals to do this. But there was no other choice. This was going to have to happen.

Somebody could die, Gerard could die. And then what would happen to Frank? What would happen to the group that they were? If one of them died it would be a domino effect of the other two killers. Even if Gerard died it wouldn’t matter as much to him as it would Frank.

It would cut Frank up inside if Gerard died. And if Frank died it would kill Pete. It was a circle, a cycle. They were so close to each other now that if one toppled the others would soon follow. They were a web, a stacked layer of bricks just positioned so if one was cut down or taken away the others couldn’t function.

But they were going to make it out of this alive. They were going to do their best, at least.

Besides, they didn’t have time for death when they were killing as many people as they were. They didn’t need to die, others were going to do it for them. They would take their place. That was the best thing about being a killer was that you can elude death. You can be whatever you want to be as long as you kill. You could be immortal, you could be a god.

There was nothing that was going to stop them. There was nothing that was going to take this away from them. They were going to go out guns blazing. They didn’t need anyone to tell them that they couldn’t.

They didn’t have much of a plan and hell, him and Gerard were just going to have their hand guns. But that was the best part of it, that was the most exhilarating part of it all. They were going in with nothing but their wits and a goal. And they were going to get Frank out of there and then they were going to go far away.

They were going to go far away and he was going to be away from Mikey. He would finally be free of Mikey.

He was sat in his car, trying to do his best not to panic. He was trying to do his best not to freak out, ruin everything. He didn’t want to jump the gun. But he didn’t want to be late to the party.

He was going to have to walk the line. He was going to have to let himself work naturally. But god, did he have to be careful. He had to watch out for what they were about to do. He was the only one that was going to be reasonable about this. He was the only one that was going to make sure they weren’t getting caught.

He wanted to be able to get away with Frank. Gerard wanted to get his lover back. That was the difference between the two.

Gerard was willing to do anything to get him. Even if it was risking his cover, risking his life. The latter was the worst thing that could happen in that instance.

He was terrified of this, so scared of it. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want any of his friends to die. He didn’t want them to get hurt. He had grown close to Gerard, even closer to Frank. He didn’t want to have to see them die right in front of him, in the blaze of glory that would get them out of where they were and started on their second killing spree.

He wouldn’t want them to die because he already lost Mikey. He was living his life without him now, happy and away from all of this. He didn’t want to have to lose anyone else to the lifestyle that he led, to the life of crime that he was caught in.

He was terrified of what had happened to him. He couldn’t be there to protect him anymore, and God did he need protecting. He was terrified of what Gerard told him and how he was handling it. He already knew, but this just solidified it. This just added to the fact that this all was real. He wondered if he was having a breakdown, if he needed Pete to hold him. He wondered if he had slept last night and if so how well.

He wanted to be able to take care of him but now he couldn’t. It was his own fault that he was estranged from his lover, but he was still bitter about it.

He wanted to talk to him. He wanted to call him. But he knew that he shouldn’t. He should just stay away. Mikey didn’t need him anymore. He would never need him again.

The words that he thought stung in his head and down to his heart, traveling to his toes. He didn’t want to have to think about Mikey not needing him, but he didn’t now. He didn’t want him, didn’t need him. He was never going to need him again.

And that was the most killer thing about it all. He was going to stop loving him. Mikey had already done that, but he was still caught up on him. Still caught up on helping him, loving him.

He knew that he should do this to either of them, that he shouldn’t do this to himself because he didn’t deserve this. But there was still the want to talk to him, the part of him that craved the normalcy of what they had, the beauty of what they had. But he could never have that again and he had never had it to begin with. They had always been wrought with danger, and that was why they would never work out. He just had to accept that.

He sighed and put away the itch that was telling him to call. He was worried about him, worried about him in the way a lover would. He didn’t want him to get hurt. He didn’t want him to be hurt. But he was never going to get to take care of him again. Someone would do that for him. It wasn’t his place to care. It wasn’t his place to want to.

He sighed to himself and moved even further away from his thoughts of Mikey. He wasn’t going to think about it. He wasn’t going to mess with it. He was just going to deal with what he had. He was just going to deal with himself and Gerard and Frank. Those were the people that he had promised to give Mikey up for and he was going to follow through with it. He was only going to be with them, for the rest of his life.

They were going to get his friend out and then they were going to leave. And then he would never have to be tempted by Mikey again. He would never have to deal with the feelings that he had again. He could just run away from it.

That was the plan, running away. He was going to get away from Mikey, get away from his problems. He didn’t need him. He could just run, he could pick up killing. He could go back to the life that he had had before he fell in love. Before he got into this mess.

He was just going to get away, stay away, be away from all of it. He did’t have to deal with Mikey if he was halfway across the country. He wouldn’t have to deal with the love of his life if he couldn’t be near him.

He knew that he would torture him at night, that he would come find him when he was in his dreams. But he could fear the night if that meant getting through the day. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t stay where he would be reminded that he didn’t belong, he had never belonged here.

It was time to go home. It was time to get away.

And he would never be able to be near him again if he couldn’t get close to him. God, he wanted to get close to him. But he knew that he couldn’t. Knew that he shouldn’t.

That was all gone now. Mikey was better, Mikey was pure. Mikey had moved on. And now it was his turn to move on. He would have to get on with his life. Just like Mikey had.

He had to let it die. So that was what he was going to do. He was going to let this die. And he was  going to move on.

There was still the burn that resided in his heart, but he ignored it. He ignored it and let himself start to migrate to where he was going to meet Gerard. He was going to the first step of his life, forcing himself away from Mikey, getting away from him

He chastised himself again, reminded himself again, Mikey didn’t need him. So he didn’t need Mikey.

 

Frank was antsy. Antsy for something he wasn’t sure of. He had a feeling, an inkling. Waiting for Gerard to come get him. He knew it was the time and if now wasn’t it would never be.

He knew that his trial was in a few days. In a few shuts of an eyelid he would be put at the mercy of a trial and he would be farther away from his baby. He would never be near his darling again if he was shipped off to some god awful place.

He had to be near him, he had to be put near him. He couldn’t bear life without him. He just couldn’t. He had to be next to him again, touch him again. He wanted him.

He missed him.

His heart yearned for the love of his life to come find him, to come have him. He felt it in his bones. The fact that he was being met with Gerard soon enough was like poison, like a drug. There was adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He was waiting for him, wishing for him. He wanted to touch him. He wanted to be with him. He was tired of waiting for Gerard to come get him. But he couldn’t get out of here by himself, even if everyone in there was an idiot, he couldn’t be cocky about it. He was a sitting duck, waiting for Gerard, waiting for Pete.

He had to have Gerard’s help or he wouldn’t get past the first guard. He would be an idiot to try to get out, there was nothing he could do right now.

He couldn’t get out of here without Gerard, without Pete. He wouldn’t be able to see his baby unless they came and saved him. They had to come and get him. And he had to come and get him soon, he was itching to see his baby.

They were the only ones that could come and save him. He was waiting for them, yearning for Gerard. He missed him, his heart hurt at the thought of being away from him anymore. He didn’t want to be away from him any longer, he didn’t want the distance to grow larger. He was terrified that Gerard wouldn’t love him as much as he had before he left. He was scared that they didn’t even want to look for him.

He wanted them to come get him, he wanted them to want him back in the folds with them. But he didn’t know what had went down when he was away, he didn’t know what had happened when he was in here, he didn’t know what Gerard was anymore. He knew that he was a killer now, but he didn’t know if he was still in love with him.

He had been absent from television that day, nobody worrying about what he was doing because he wasn’t doing anything. The quiet made him scared, made him paranoid. He was waiting for Gerard to burst through the door, hand him a gun and say that he missed him.

He wanted him to come and get him but he was scared that he didn’t want him, that he didn’t think he was worth the effort anymore.

He just wanted to know that they missed him, wanted him. They were going to come and get him and he was going to be back with his little baby.

He wanted to see Gerard, look into his eyes again. His picture wasn’t cutting it anymore, there was nothing that he could do that brought up anymore memories of the way his fingers felt when they danced on his. There was nothing left for him to conjure up in his mind but a smile, fading by the second.

He needed to see him, he needed to see him and he needed to be with him. He couldn’t do this anymore. He was going insane with the wait that he was forced to endure. He just wished that he had gotten here, he just wished that he was going to get to see Gerard again, at least in the near future.

He couldn’t wait till he was getting back the person that made his life worthwhile. He couldn’t wait to see the one person that he did this all for anymore.

He wanted to congratulate him, to tell him that he was good at what he had done and what he was still doing. He knew that it was hard being a killer, especially without Frank. He knew that he wanted him back by the way he killed, by the rate and ferocity. He wanted him back. But he was still worried that Gerard was going to flake out. He was still worried that he wouldn’t come for him.

But he had to come, he had to come and save him. Because Frank couldn’t live without Gerard. He couldn’t live without Gerard anymore, he had made him such a big part of his life and his future. He couldn’t bear to be without him.

He was so proud of Gerard, he had killed for him. Brutally murdered just to be with Frank, to show him that he loved him. He knew that it was him, he knew that he was the one who had killed them, the only one who could do that.

Frank knew it all along. But the best part of it that no one else did. He had them all fooled. Nobody knew that he had killed for him, that Gerard was bad because he had made him bad.

It was the perfect crime. They were the perfect killers.

And soon they would be reunited again because Gerard was a bad person and a good killer. They were going to be together because he kept himself hidden well enough and long enough that he could come and get him.

Gerard wasn’t pure anymore. There was nothing about him that was truly good. He wouldn’t hurt him now. He wouldn’t kill him now. Because he was just as bad as he was. He wasn’t good, he wasn’t innocent. He was a killer now, plain and simple. They were killers together.

They were never going to hurt each other ever again because they were the best. They were best and they were in love. They were going to be in love for the entirety of their lives, no matter how short or how long they may be.

If he died that day he would love Gerard as long as forever allowed him to. If Gerard died that day, he would die, too.

He was scared that Gerard and Pete were going to fail to come get him, it could be a slapdash plan. It could be something thrown together at the last minute to come and get him. He didn’t want them to fail, but paranoia was running through his brain.

He was going to be sick if he kept up with this. He was worried that they weren’t going to come, he was worried that they wouldn’t make it to him before they were shot down in their plans. He needed to calm down.

He thought of Gerard’s face again, embedded into his mind but still fading away into soft lines. He was starting to forget the shape of his nose, the tone of his skin and the way the light hit his cheeks. He had to see him soon, he had to be with him soon. He couldn’t forget him anymore, he was terrified of forgetting him anymore.

He focused harder, trying not to let himself get even more freaked out than he already was. He didn’t want to have to think about forgetting Gerard, living without Gerard. He didn’t want to have to think about him without the love of his life.

That would send him over the edge even if he already wasn’t there, worrying about how the day was going to go.

So he took a big breath of air and let himself imagine the way Gerard looked, latching onto his eyelashes and focusing in on the jewels in his eyes.

He was going to come for him. He was going to come and he was going to get him. And Gerard was going to be a new person, changed, at the least. And Frank was going to fall even more in love with him. He was going to be the happiest that he had ever been with Gerard because finally they were starting to fit together, finally, all the pieces were going to come together so he could be with him.

He was so excited to be with him. He was so excited to end up with him, he was going to be so happy. They were going to be so happy. They would be happy because they had finally perfected their craft as killers, they had finally hurt and maimed all the people that they could here and they were going across the country to do it everywhere else.

They were going to take over the world and they were going to be unstoppable.

He couldn’t wait till Gerard got him out of here.

If it wasn’t bad that he was hoping to see him, to get to him, he was starting to crave blood. He was starting to want to kill again and that could not be a good thing.

If Gerard didn’t get to him today, he would kill somebody. He would kill somebody and they would have to send him to max. Then it would be even harder for Gerard to get to him.

He wouldn’t be able to get to him if he killed someone, but he was so close. His fingers curled around an imaginary neck, squeezing the air out till there was nothing left but hopeless gasps. His eyes closed in bliss, he could only imagine, but soon he would have the world under his feet and all the bodies that he could hope for.

He needed to relax. He was going to kill soon. He unclenched after a moment of imagining someone going limp under him and took another deep breath. Gerard was coming, Gerard was going to fix everything.

He would get him out of here and then they would rule the world, they would kill all they wanted to. He couldn’t wait. And that’s why he had to start calming himself down, his blood was boiling to the point where it was bubbling over, but it was not time yet.

But he was restless, he was waiting for Gerard. He was waiting for him to come and get him, to come and find him. He was waiting for him to come and find him, to finally reunite with him as a lover.

He was still anxious, worried that maybe Gerard wasn’t coming to get him. Maybe he was just killing under this front. Maybe he was just giving himself a reason to kill. All was not well in his mind, even after he imagined Gerard’s face and killing with Gerard. He was still waiting and that was the worst part of all of this.

But that was far-fetched. Gerard was always going to love him, they were always going to be together. Because that was what he and Gerard were. They were together, they were in love, forever. They would never be apart.

But he was still scared, Gerard wouldn’t love him after what he did to him. He shivered at the thought of it.

He didn’t love him when he had tried to kill him. He had called Pete. He had tried to get away from him. And he let him get away, gave him some of his space. He wondered if he still needed that space, if he even wanted Frank to close it.

But what if he didn’t want him even now? What if he never wanted him again? That was a fear that he had had in the back of his head for the entire time that Gerard had been apart from him.

Maybe he had found somebody new, maybe he had somebody else that he was in love with. Someone else that he was training to be a killer, or maybe someone that was so good that they didn’t even need training.

He didn’t want to think about Gerard with anybody else. He didn’t want to think about Gerard killing with anybody else. He was his and his alone. He was only meant to be with him. He was only meant to kill with him.

He was never supposed to be anything but his lover, but a right hand man in all of Frank’s schemes. He didn’t want Gerard to be with anyone else.

Gerard was his.

Frank could feel the envy bubbling in his stomach as he thought about all the ways Gerard could be cheating on him, all the ways that he could be happier with another guy right about now.

He could be with another, more attractive guy. He could be kissing him, slathering blood on his lips, taking lives with him. He could be with anyone else but Frank and he could be killing with him. He could be what Frank was to him.

He wouldn’t have that, it was making him sick just thinking about it. It was making him want to kill even more, and he was trying not to let that get out of hand.

He was going to snap somebodies neck if he had to think about Gerard loving somebody else. But he didn’t want that to happen. He wanted to keep himself in check so if Gerard decided to show up he would be available. He didn’t want Gerard to have even more of a reason to leave him for somebody else.

He wanted to be the only thing that Gerard had, he wanted to be the only thing that he ever wanted. He wanted to be the best, he wanted Gerard to want him again. He was so scared that he had lost his want for him. He was terrified that he was only coming (if he was coming) out of pity for Frank, just to let him loose on the world again like he was a dog stuck inside a fence.

He didn’t want his rescue to be out of obligation, he wanted it to be out of love, he wanted Gerard to save him out of love.

He was scared that he had changed, that killing had turned him into something that Frank could not recognize, that was more heartless than Frank was. He was petrified of the fact that maybe he had lost his love when he gained a bigger appetite for killing. He didn’t want him to lose his innocence, the glitter that made him look like a diamond, resting on the sea. He wanted him to be red and he wanted him to be ruthless, but he didn’t want him to be so different that he had stopped loving him.

He didn’t want to lose Gerard to death and killing. But he knew that he would have to let him roam. He knew that he would have to let him be who he was and if he had to let him go he would let him go.

Gerard was getting curious, it wasn’t just Frank that was holding him down anymore, he wasn’t going to hold his hand anymore. Gerard deserved better than that. He was talented, he was adaptable. He was the best part of being a killer.

Frank couldn’t take that away from him because he was afraid that he wouldn’t be what he wanted him to be by the end of the day. He was always going to love Gerard. He was just terrified that he wouldn’t love him. He was just scared that he had changed enough, grown enough, to realize that he didn’t need Frank anymore.

That he might never need Frank ever again.

Frank was terrified of that, scared to death of the fact that he was going to end up expendable. But Gerard loved him, right? He would never do that, right? He would never kill him or let him go just because he had gotten soft, just because he was yesterday’s news, right?

He was terrified of the answer that he might get if Gerard came to get him. If he decided he was worth coming for at all.

He knew that he shouldn’t think this way, but he couldn’t help it. There was something about it that made him suspicious. There was something about his own hatred of himself that made him terrified that Gerard was not going to come and love him again.

He was sure that he would just die if Gerard took on an apprentice, if Gerard had anyone help him kill besides Frank. That meant that he was growing stronger, that meant that he was getting better and would soon never need Frank again. He was going to be independent of him and if he got there too quickly, or he got too powerful, he was going to cut Frank off.

Frank was so terrified of being cut off. He loved Gerard, and he never wanted to be away from him. He knew that his love was forever. But he wasn’t so sure about Gerard’s.

He didn’t want to think about what would happen when his love ran out. And it was not a question of if anymore, it was a question of when. And that wasn’t even being pessimistic, it was just stating the fact about how him and Gerard were now a days.

There was something about it that scared the shit out of him. He was terrified of dying, terrified of being usurped.

Gerard would do that. One day, Gerard would have the upper hand and he was afraid that day was today.

He wouldn’t love him anymore if he knew what he was. If he was what he was. He needed to be innocent for this to work. He needed to be small, malleable, if Frank wanted to do anything worthwhile. He was scared of what he was becoming.

He hadn’t seen him in so long he could be an entirely different person. He didn’t want him to be different. He wanted to love the same baby that he had met, so long ago it seemed.  
He wanted Gerard to be the same again. Because he was so scared of him being anything else. He was so scared of having to adjust to anything else.

He knew that Gerard had come a long way, just how far and whether it was good or bad he didn’t even know yet. And not knowing was the part that really made him anxious to see him again.

He just had to know what he was like.


	19. Ready

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who got this out earlier than usual even though my wifi is total shit because of this storm

Gerard was going to get to him. He was going to be with him, he would make sure of that. No one was going to stand in his way. He was going to get to Frank and he was going to be with him. He had to be with him, he was the only reason worth living. He was the only thing worth anything. He loved Frank. And he had made Frank love him again. He wanted to be with him, and Frank wanted to be with him, too.

He couldn’t fuck this up. He was going to have to get him back. He was going to have to have him soon, again. Or else, Frank would stop loving him. And he couldn’t have that for a second time.

He had to act quickly and he had to act effectively. He was petrified of missing his chance to be with Frank.

Nothing was going to stop him from getting Frank back. They were in love, nothing was going to stand in their way. They were going to be together. They were going to be in love again. Gerard had to be with him, he would die if he was without him. He was the love of his life. He was going to be the only one, soon enough they would be the only ones.

He smiled to himself and sighed, getting out of the car, halfway down the road to where his baby was. He was going to be with Frank soon! There were butterflies on fire in his throat. He was so excited for this, he was so ready for this. He was terrified of it going wrong, though.

In the back of his head everything was going wrong. Frank ended up dead, Pete ended up finding out, Lyn-z betrayed him and bailed. He didn’t want that to be true. He didn’t want that to happen to him. He had to be with Frank. He had to be with Frank, that was the only way he would stay alive.

He would lose all will to kill if he couldn’t get Frank back, if he couldn’t have Frank. It would be worse than the worst if he lost him.

He didn’t even want to think about being without him, he never wanted to think about what it was like to lose the love of his life. The thought made him want to be sick.

He just wanted to be in Frank’s arms again, he just wanted to get Frank back and then make him make everything perfect again. He would get Frank but only as a means to an end. He would get Frank out of the hellhole he was in now and then Frank could make the final touches on making everything perfect again.

His stomach jumped on itself, flipping over and over. He was crawling out of his skin with the fact that he was going to get to be with Frank soon. They were going to get him to Frank soon. And then he was going to kills him, he was going to love him, he was going to be with him and it would be everything he had ever dreamed about.

He couldn’t wait to kiss him, to kill with him. He missed him so badly, it felt like his heart was caving in. He couldn’t wait to spill blood with him, he was in love with him.

He wanted to feel his face between his hands again, his lips and the way they curled into a smile. He wanted to look into his eyes again and he wanted to see him kill.

There was nothing better than watching Frank kill, that was what made it all worthwhile in the end. That’s what made them stick together.

Frank was the best thing that had ever happened to him and now he just had to get him back to keep the best thing happening.

He couldn’t wait, he wanted to cry with happiness. This was truly going to be the best day of his life.

He smiled to himself and walked to where Pete was standing by his car. The reminder of what he had done was bubbling in his stomach. He didn’t want to think about what he knew that Pete was going to ask about. That love and excitement was dwindling as he thought about wat Pete might say to him. If he wasn’t so happy, he would make himself sick with worry at the thought of Pete asking him what he had done last night.

Pete would hate him when he found out. He just knew it. Pete was going to think that he was a vile creature. He already thought that about himself, it wouldn’t help when one of his partners in crime thought it about him.

There were beads of sweat that were growing in his skin despite the cool weather. He hoped to god that he didn’t ask about Mikey; he wasn’t sure he would have the ability to lie about it. But he knew that he would have to. He knew that it would be impossible to look him in the eye and lie to him. But he had no other choice.

He wasn’t sure if he could look at him with a face that didn’t give anything away. He wasn’t sure that he was able to lie that the love of his life was dead. But he knew that he had to. He had to make sure that Pete never found out about what he had done. It would ruin everything if he knew. He couldn’t let one of his only friends know something that would ruin him.

He had Lyn-z, but she was going to die. He had Frank but he was a lover, he didn’t count. Pete was the only friend that he really had and he had done something that could kill any relationship that they ever had. He had never really faced the repercussions of a kill and he hoped to god that he didn’t have to. He hoped that he would never have to deal with this again if he had to.

He didn’t want his judgmental stares, he didn’t want the sadness that would wash over him. He didn’t want to jeopardize the mission. He knew that Pete wouldn’t want to talk to him when he knew that he had done this to him. He knew that Pete wouldn’t want to help him and rank if he had forsaken half of the duo.

Pete would hate him. He would be the kind of monster that he wouldn’t want to work with. He would be the kind of person that Pete thought that he himself could never become. And he was right, he was the lowest of the low.

He had killed an angel. And that was the worst offense of it all. Gerard was the worst of them all. He had killed his brother and that was the worst of them all.

Thankfully, nothing like that happened. Pete didn’t ask how Mikey was, he didn’t even mention his little brother. Although he knew that when he bit his lip, looking at him for that first time, that he was going to say something like it. But he also knew, with the fact that he said something else after a moment, that he wasn’t going to bring it up. He knew better than to dig up and shake a can of worms like that. He had left Mikey in the past and Gerard had left him in ground.

It hurt him to think about his little brother like that. He was cold and alone and Gerard would never go to see him. He would be alone in death like he was in life.

He felt a pain in his heart for his little brother, he didn’t want that to happen to him. He didn’t want his eternity to be spent like that.

He had half a mind to go dig his baby brother up and go save him from the fate that he had doomed him to. He didn’t want him to be stuck in the ground all alone.

Taking a deep breath, he let himself forget his little brother. He let himself forget Mikey and all he represented. He let himself focus on what he was going to do with himself and what he was going to do with Pete.

They were going to have to focus on this, on just this. He wasn’t going to have things distracting him. He needed to focus on Frank and he needed to focus on getting Frank out of where he was right now. He couldn’t have any slipups, he might die if he did.

He needed to make sure that his head was in the game, that he wasn’t paying attention to his brother in the park, buried with the worms and already decaying. He had wanted to die, he had wanted Gerard to do it. It wasn’t his fault, his little brother was in the way.

He just needed to focus on what they were doing right that moment. He just had to focus on what he was going to do about all of this. He couldn’t think of Mikey. He wasn’t going to think about Mikey. He was dead and he was gone and he was never coming back.

And Pete knew the same thing, he was trying to tell himself that very same thing. They both loved him and they both wanted him in their lives, but Mieky was too good for them. Mikey wasn’t a killer and didn’t deserve to be surrounded by ones. He deserved to be by himself, alone and happy.

He didn’t know that he had died. And Gerard was not going to tell him, as we know. He just thought that Mikey was in his own little world. He just thought that Mikey was happy, all alone and by himself, without the two of them to fuck it up for him.

Pete knew that he should give him up, and he was going to try to. But there was still the fact that he loved him. There was still the idea that he was the only thing that he would ever love. And that was the one that would be the death of him and the death to Gerard’s plan.

He wanted to never tell Pete what he had done. He didn’t want him to know that he had killed Mikey. But he would get curious, one day he would try to call Mikey back up or peer in his window and he would see somebody else. Mikey would not be there, and he would know that something was up.

He was going to know that Gerard killed his little brother soon enough. And that would mean that Gerard’s world was going to fall apart around him. He had to keep it a secret. He couldn’t know, he could never know.

He shivered and let Pete talk, glad that he wasn’t going to say what he really wanted to say. Glad to keep the elephant in the room from rearing its head.

Pete looked to Lyn-z, crossing his arms and nodding towards her, “Who is she?” His voice was full of fear at this outsider and Gerard remembers that he never told Pete about Lyn-z so he had no idea who this strange girl was, hopping out of Gerard’s car with a gun in her pocket.

He explained to him after his eyes flicked to Lyn-z. She looked a little worried but she was trying not to let them see it on her face. She was trying to play it much more cool than she really was.

“That’s Lyn-z,” he explains. “She’s my apprentice, I guess,” he shrugged. He didn’t really know what to call her, apprentice didn’t feel quite right but he guessed that that was what she was to him. She was being taught what he was doing by him. So that had to mean that she was something along those lines.

Pete nodded, still looking at her, answering him with his eyes locked on the foreigner. “Frank’s gonna get jealous,” he reminded him, as if Gerard hadn’t already known that.

He shrugged again, looking back from where Lyn-z was standing, knowing that they were talking about her but too scared to come forward and do anything about it. “Yeah, I think we’ll kill her when we get Frank out of here. But who knows?” He shrugged again and Pete looked at her again.

“So she’s gonna help us get him out?”

“Yeah,” Gerard replies with a sigh. “We’re gonna need all the help we can get.” And he’s right, they don’t really know anything about this besides the fact that Frank was in there and Pete was going to kill the first guard that took Frank to see him.

It wasn’t going to be easy, because they had no fucking plan and they had no fucking manpower but maybe it was meant to be doomed from the start, maybe they were meant to try to get Frank out with just their wits and a few guns.

Pete knew that this was a bad idea, but it was the best one that they had. Gerard had gotten Frank out once, but that was pure half assed luck. This was going to be different.

Frank was the main villain in here, as long as he didn’t get away everybody else could do what they wanted. He was the main guy in here, which would make it harder for him to make it out of there. They wouldn’t care how many people died, he was going to be stopped from getting out of there to whichever degree necessary.

This was going to be something unprecedented to any amount of shit they had ever done. This was going to be the most important thing they had ever done. This was life or death, this was capture or freedom.

He was terrified. Pete knew what he was doing, Pete knew what he was doing and what it meant. Gerard was clueless about how big this was, how serious this was. He wasn’t a criminal like Pete was, not even like Frank was. He was just a killer. All he knew was murder and some of the more immediate effects of what he did. He didn’t know what it was like to have legal repercussions, he didn’t know what it was like to be in jail.

With this, he could go to prison because people now knew what he did, he could have the death penalty. He didn’t realize how crucial it was that they went through and did this correctly. There were no second chances, there was nothing that they could do wrong. It was truly life or death. And Gerard couldn’t be any happier to have a chance for a free shooting range.

He had no clue what was going on, and maybe it was best to keep him like that. It would keep his mind clean of what they had to do and he could just pick people off easier.

Gerard, meanwhile, was tingling at the fact that they were going to get his baby. They were going to save his Frankie! He was so excited, he could barely wait to start a new life with him. This was the beginning of the end and the beginning of a new beginning. They were going to get away and they were going to live the happiest life imaginable.

They were going to be together again, Gerard couldn’t wait for it. He wanted to be near him again, he wanted to touch and feel him again. There was something so exhilarating about the fact that he was going to be near him again.

He smiled to himself and went up on the balls of his feet. Pete and him were going to have to act fast, the sun was quickly rising higher and with that the difficulty increased. Pete was checking his gun in the car and Lyn-z was still making sure she was ready to do this.

He hoped that she was going to go through with this, killing her in the parking lot would be a scene and he would definitely have to kill her. She wasn’t going to flake out on then at this point in time. She wasn’t going to get cold feet. She had to be ready for this.

And if she wasn’t, it was too bad for her. She was going to go through with this, Gerard was going to fucking make her go through with this. She couldn’t leave him hanging like that. She had to do this. She was a cop, she could give him the sort of leverage that he needed to get to Frank if he needed it. They could hold her hostage if they really needed to do it. They wouldn’t let her die. Gerard needed her to help him out on this, she was going to be the thing that really sealed the deal, if they so needed her to of course.

He looked to where she was sitting in the car, she looked terrified, holding the gun in her hand like it was poison rather than a life line. She looked around and huddled in on herself when she saw him staring. She didn’t like being scrutinized, she felt threatened.

So he looked away from her and let her do what she had to. She wasn’t going to go away, he tried to remind himself. She was going to go along with this. She loved Gerard, and she wasn’t going to give him up. Especially after last night, he had made her think that he was torn on wanting her, that he would actually choose her over Frank at the end of it all.

She was an idiot, he would never give up Frank, but it was still something that sealed the deal. She would still want to be with him and that would make her follow him to the ends of the Earth. He had her wrapped around his fucking finger, she wasn’t going to go anywhere. She was going to do this, even if it took her a few minutes to actually get out of the car and follow them in.

Pete was going to get to Frank and he was going to shoot the guard, Lyn-z and Gerard were going to go through to the back with the getaway car and then they would go from there.

He hoped that it went to plan, or better, since they had never really made a true fixed plan. He had winged it before on a simple concept and he was going to do that again. But this was, granted, much more complicated than anything he had done before. This was more than just walking in and pretending he wanted closure and letting it go horribly wrong.

He thought of Ray’s dead body and shivered. He couldn’t help but think of his fallen friend from time to time. There was no stopping it, Ray would always be in the back of his mind, there would always be something that set off thinking about him.

But there was no use for that now, there was no use in spending time thinking about the dead. The dead didn’t give a damn so why should he? He had better things to think about like how many people he would kill and how many times he would pull the trigger and end a life today, god he loved thinking about that. It was something so spectacular, something that made his heart itch at the thought of in the best way possible.

What could he say? He loved to kill.

But this was going to be harder. This was going to be many more people dead than just a friend. This wasn’t something in the way, this was something deeper than that. This was going to be a true crime scene.

This was more people dead, more people involved, more security. He was going to have to kill a lot more people, before, Frank was the one who killed Ray. Gerard was going to have his fair share of empty shells. And he was going to love it. He was going to love the fact that he would run out of here covered in fucking blood, he was going to come out of here covered in nothing but his love for Frank. He was going to come out of here feeling like the greatest man alive.

That would be the thrill of it, the thrill of the chase and the fact that he was going to get to Frank. This was going to be the best because it was going to be a killing spree.

Frank and him were going to kill, kill, kill, just to get right back to each other. It would be perfect. This was the best day of his life.

He felt like he could fly! He felt like he could do anything in the world. This was going to be full of the best things that had ever happened to him. He was going to kill and he was going to get Frank.

He couldn’t believe that yesterday had him at his lowest, digging a grave for his little brother. He was going to kill and he was going to be cleansed of the burden that was his old life. There was nothing of Gerard anymore, it was just him now. It was just the New Jay. It was just him and Frank now. They would have each other again. Soon enough, he could nearly feel him in his arms again.

But he had to go kill. He had to go kill to get the love of his life back. That was the first thing. He wasn’t going to go into there with Frank to start killing people, he was killing people to get Frank back. He had to remember that. He had to remember that he was going to be with him for the rest of his life. And to be with him for the rest of his life he had to do good for him, he had to do this for him. He was so excited.

Him and Pete exchanged looks at each other and decided that it was now or never, there was no waiting around anymore.

The birds were chirping, yelling, screaming, screeching. They were telling them to get a move on so there were more carcasses to pick at and more blood to splash in. They were going to obey what the birds were saying and they were going to go for it. It was time to start the massacre. It was time to start the best day ever.

Gerard smiled at Pete and secured his gun in the back of his pocket. He felt the cold, grey plastic that was jeering him on just like the birds. His gun wanted to have a little fun, too. All in good time, all in good time. The gun would do what it was meant to do soon, he would make sure that it had that opportunity.

They were going to have so much fun today.

They started walking towards the building, or at least, Pete did. Gerard and Lyn-z got back into the car, watching him walk in before they started to drive around back, Lyn-z still looking as jittery and scared as ever. She had looked that way ever since they had gotten into the car. She was terrified of this, and he couldn’t blame her. This was her first time really killing someone without her hand being held and it was already something gigantic.

Gerard wasn’t even sure he was ready for this and he had kill way many more people than Lyn-z ever had. She must be shaking.

But he was loving every second of this, he was excited to get Frank back. This was the highlight of his life, getting his baby back. This was going to go according to plan, it had to or else it would all fall apart. But he wasn’t nervous about that, he was just excited to be able to get his Frankie back, he was excited that he would be seeing him again.

He would die for Frank, but now he got to do something way more fun than that. He was getting to kill to get Frank back. He was getting to do what he loved as a test to get his lover back. The world was sweet to him today, it was being much too nice to him today. Something had to happen that made this day worse to balance it out. Hell, he might as well just die to make up for all the fun that he was having.

But he couldn’t do that, he had a date today, he had to do something for Frank. He was going to get his lover back. He was going to get Frank back.

He was so glad he was worthy of him again, he was so glad that Frank was allowing him to come have him again. He didn’t deserve Frank, he never deserved Frank. But for Frank to think that he did was so amazing. It was beautiful, the fact that he was getting Frank back and Frank was letting him do the honors of getting him back.

He knew that he had fucked up before, that Frank had taken himself away because of what Gerard did, so to redeem himself, that was something amazing.

Frank thought he was worthy now, Frank thought that he deserved to have him back. He was so excited to come and collect his prize, he was so excited that Frank wanted him to have him back.

He was going to go get him, he was going to go save him and then they would be happy with each other again. He was going to fix it and then Frank could take care of him, Frank could love him again.

They would get rid of Lyn-z and they would just run away together. It could be the two of them and when Pete felt like it, it could be him, too. They were going to be killers, all of them, together and they would bring this country to their knees.

 

Lyn-z had a quieter ambition. She was just going to be with Gerard. That was what she thought was going to happen, she thought that she would just end up with Gerard, end of story. When that was obviously not going to happen, at least, in Gerard’s knowledge.

Gerard was going to be with Frank and Frank was going to be with Gerard. Gerard was sure that they would probably just kill Lyn-z when this was said and done, or he wanted to watch Frank kill Lyn-z. That would be more fun.

But Lyn-z, poor Lyn-z was so clueless. She thought that her and Gerard would finally be together if this all went wrong, of course she wouldn’t sabotage it in any way that the rest of the guys would know, but she was going to end up with Gerard. And she knew that she would have to do something to make it happen.

This was a new occurrence in her brain, and she hadn’t thought it all out, but she knew that she could do something that ensured that she ended up with Gerard, but she didn’t know what, yet.

Maybe she could lead the guards to where Pete and Frank were and tell them a bullshit story about how they had taken Gerard and her from his house to help him. Maybe she could make it look like they were the victims in another way and let her take him home where she would go from there.

She would have to do something so Frank didn’t get Gerard. She deserved Gerard, and Gerard deserved her. She had to let herself have him, had to push herself to do something to have him.

Gerard needed to be saved from his fate. He needed to be turned into what she wanted him to be. Frank couldn’t take him, Frank couldn’t have him. She had to make sure that he was safe, she had to make sure that he was hers. Frank would do terrible things to him, he would be a terrible thing for him.

Lyn-z waited with Gerard, in the car, near the back door, just waiting for it to spring open for her to kick the car into motion. Every moment, every movement was just another reason for her to start her move, it was every reason for her to get going. She was feeling so much more jittery and wound up than she ever thought she could. It was maddening, the fact that she would soon have to kick it into overdrive and move, at the drop of the hat, the sound of a pin and nothing could go wrong or it would be off with her head.

She was terrified of doing this. She was terrified of moving. But she was going to have to move soon, she was going to have to do something. They would kill her if she didn’t. She knew that she was the one to go. She was going to be the one that they blamed if something went wrong. She would be the one to be thrown away.

She knew that she had to be better than any of them because the glue between them was so much more stronger than it was between her and Gerard. She didn’t know Pete, she didn’t know Frank. Gerard would be the one to keep her safe and she feared that he was the one that would quickest throw her under the bus. Even though he loved her, he had to keep up his appearances. He had to make them think that he didn’t love her.

So she was scared, afraid to speak and afraid to look away from the door in case something happened and she had missed it. She didn’t want to miss it, she just wanted to be able to move without thinking about it. Every second counted here. Everything that she could do she would have to do.

That was why she was wound up so tightly, that was why she was sitting there with her eyes on the door not saying anything. The air of terror was over them and she wasn’t getting out of it so quickly. She was forever going to be like this, stiff and watching. She was always going to be scared of missing something that was happening.

And Gerard wasn’t any better. He himself sat with a gun in his hands, ready to do what he was meant to do, what this whole thing was based on. He was ready to pull the trigger at anybody who came out of there that wasn’t his lover and Pete. He was jittery and trigger happy, a terrible combination.

They stayed silent around each other, no one daring to speak to startle the other. They were just going to sitthere and they were going to think and they were going to pay attention to what was going on, they couldn’t risk looking away from this. They couldn’t risk paying attention to anything else for just a second.

And it was probably better this way. Lyn-z was antsy to ask about what had happened that morning before they had left for her. She was wondering what it meant for them and what they were. She wanted to know but she didn’t want to bring it up around Pete and Mikey. She didn’t want to make it awkward. She didn’t want to make it weird and make Gerard think about that while he had other things on his mind.

She knew that she should just leave it before Frank caught on and killed the both of them, but she couldn’t forget the taste of his lips so near to hers. It was intoxicating really, she was so close to what she had wanted. So close yet so far away. There was something about it that made it all the more lustful though, she wanted to be near him again. She wanted to have him. She didn’t want to just see the forbidden fruit, she wanted to taste it for herself. She wanted to know what it was like to have all the knowledge in the world, to have the knowledge that Gerard wanted her.

She wanted him to want her. She knew that he did. She knew that he was something amazing and she was making him conflicted, a little more confliction and he would be hers.

But she was terrified of what that really meant. Frank would be angry, Frank would kill her, and probably him. Frank would ruin what she was trying to build.

But she couldn’t get rid of him. He was the leader of this group, he was the leader of this and she was just the baby. She couldn’t kill him, that would get everyone to turn on her. She didn’t need that, she couldn’t have that.

She had to sabotage it like she wanted to do. She had to make this mission go just rotten enough that her and Gerard got out with Gerard falling more in love with her. She had to make him fall in love with her, it was crucial to the entire plot.

She didn’t want to think about that. She could have sworn that she had just heard something. Her face dashed to the door and it was just a leaf scraping across the metal.

She looked back to Gerard. He was looking at that leaf that she just was. He wasn’t any better than anything that she had been doing just a second ago. He was worried sick,too.

She could see that there was anxiety etched onto his face, he was covered in it, looked green with the fact that he was oh so close to getting Frank. There were no mistakes that could be made, nothing could be out of place. No second could be wasted. They were going to have to move once things got in motion and they couldn’t trip.

They were going to have to do this to the best of their ability. And their abilities were few and far between.

They were both feeling the effects of how intricate this had to be. They were both scared sick, stomachs queasy with the fact that they were going to have to do this. They were going to have to kill so many people and they were going to have to do it within seconds. They weren’t going to have any time to waste, they were going to have to make split second decisions.

Lyn-z was never good at that, she was never good at high pressure situations. She was better when she got to slow down and do it one step at a time. She was bad at this kind of stuff.

Gerard was too. He looked even more sick than she was. He had a lot more on the line. These were his friends, his family, now, ever since he had killed Mikey. She was just along for the ride to get him to fall in love with her and learn how to kill. Gerard was the one that had a lot going for this, he was the one who was do or die.

And the fact that there was utter silence wasn’t making them feel any better. Nothing changed, nothing moved. There was just the dull transparity of the normality. But soon, and boy, did they feel that soon, they were going to be up and out of here, in the blink of an eye. In the hurried screech of a few panicked words and a few fumbles with the car keys, they would be out of there. They would be on their way and gone. And that was what was so frustrating about this, there would be nothing for an hour and then everything in a second, they would be moving at breakneck speed.

And then everything would be different and Lyn-z would have nothing that she was working towards. She would have nothing that she wanted, she would be left in the dirt, dazed at the least and dead at the most.

And he would be with Frank, starting his new life and being able to really enjoy killing. He was so excited to get started, he could barely contain his excitement, could barely contain the fact that he had woken up ready to get out of there.

And Lyn-z would be left behind. She was terrified of being left behind, she didn’t deserve that. She deserved Gerard, she deserved for him to love her.

But Gerard was just excited to be getting Frank back. He was just excited to be with him again and not with her. She deserved him God, damn it. She deserved everything that she wanted. She was a good person. She was better than Frank, at least. Frank didn’t deserve Gerard. She did. She deserved to be loved.

But Gerard only wanted Frank. He was only in love with Frank.

And why wouldn’t he be? Frank was coming. The love of his life would be coming out of those doors any minute, in a shower of bullets that looked oddly like rice grains falling at the feet of newlyweds. He wanted to go in there and get him, he wanted to go in there and make him fall in love with him again.

He would love him even more if Gerard went back in there and saved him with Pete rather than just sitting in the getaway car. He knew that he was going to need him, he knew that Pete was going to need backup.

Going in there was looking more and more appealing by the second. He just wanted Frank to know that he loved him. He just wanted to go in there and put his life on the line for him.

He was jittery, knowing that he couldn’t turn back once he made his decision and he knew that he couldn’t wait too long to actually make it.

He wanted to get out of his seat and run right in there, but he didn’t know where Pete was in the building. He didn’t know if his plan was implemented or if he would fuck up the flow of what he was about to get going on.

He didn’t want to wait, he wanted to help now though. He wanted to get out of his seat and just go in and help his baby and Pete. But he knew that he probably shouldn’t.

He would stay in the car till his better judgement really told him to start moving on in.

But if only he knew that it would not be that easy.

 


	20. The Two Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit this is the end and i honestly think the main action is super rushed sorry i really wanted to meet an even 187,000.

Gerard was dead. Blood stained Frank’s hands, and if it weren’t for them they would be white with anger.

He had just gotten to grasp at his baby again and now he was ripped away from him, forever.

He would make the world pay. He would make everyone pay.

 

The end of his world had started when Pete got there. Even though he had so desperately thought that it was just about to begin again. The world was cruel and he would never admit to deserving it.

Pete had entered, signing in like he usually would.

Frank was happy. Frank was happy and naïve and foolish. He thought that he was going to be freed. He was stupid to ever think that.

Pete was waiting, a shining beacon, a doorway to his darling. Frank didn’t know this, but Pete had a gun in his pocket, waiting to shoot at the guard that was standing there.

She was the one that Franked had really liked, the one that was a little bit nice to him. That was the first straw to be meticulously laid on the camel’s back. But we’ll get to that in a moment.

Frank sat down across from Pete, smiling and nodding at him like this was one of their normal meetings. Then, Pete pointed the gun at the lady.

It was a pity if she was to die. Frank liked her. She was nice to him, like we’ve said before. He didn’t want her to die. He didn’t want her to have to.

But he watched anyways, as Pete directed her to take the handcuffs off of Frank and let him through. This was how they were going to start, this was the beginning of the end and Frank hadn’t even noticed it. There was no feeling of forboding, it was just something that felt like it had to be done, like rummaging through a drawer or folding laundry. It felt little, but damn did it have significance.

He hadn’t seen blood in a very long time. He hadn’t made anyone bleed in a very long time, and granted it was Pete who was doing the shooting, but it still fascinated him like the very first time.

She stood her ground and stayed where she was, putting a hand on her own weapon. Frank looked on at the both of them as a shocked bystander. He hadn’t expected her to resist.

Pete fired at her, taking a shot right at her chest, making her fall to the ground. It was over in the blink of an eye, she was down, harsh breath cutting on her lips as it passed, like jagged fingernails on fabric. She wasn’t dead, but damn did she look close to it.

Her body was slumped, blood soaking her shirt. Frank thought briefly of Ray and he slowly got up. The handcuffs were a chime to what he was doing.

He was transfixed with her blood, watching it run from her twitching body. Pete was silent, watching him, an endless food chain of hungry eyes, cannibalizing each other in curiousity.

He knew that he was watching, the skin on the back of his neck was prickling. But he didn’t pay attention to that. He was transfixed with the blood, watching as it drained from her.

“Keys, officer?” he asked in a cold voice. He knew what he needed to get, even if he was still watching her bleed.

He wanted to make more people bleed. He wanted to do that to the rest of the world. He wanted to get to Gerard and he wanted to go as fast as he could, as far as he could, away from here. But he couldn’t take his eyes off of what he was watching.

The blood was spilling and her eyes were dimming. Her breaths were even more ragged than before, laced with pain. She was dying. God, did he want to be the one to do that.

He held out his hand for her to give him the keys that he had so requested but he soon realized that she was too far gone to give them to him and that she would also never concede to giving them to him. So he reached down, and took them.

He examined her brown eyes, sad and dim, like a dying star. She was gone, so far gone that he didn’t even have to do anything to speed it up. In a few minutes she would be dead and he would be free. He was going to get Gerard back.

He had to go get him, every moment spent here was one wasted. He didn’t need to be here anymore, but he still stayed, still waited for her to die.

Pete was watching him, still watching him like he was watching her. Pete knew of the urgency and wasn’t afraid to tell him about it, he wanted to make this as quick as possible. Every minute spent in here was a minute that was a minute waiting for them to be captured and never being able to do what they loved again. They would never be able to kill again if they let themselves remain there.

But Frank didn’t care, he was watching her, as curious about death as the first time he had killed. He remembered his blindness fondly, a calm sort of wonder at the fact that he had taken a life, that something was draining from the earth and into the heavens. The first time he had killed had been the most fascinating one. He remembers being unafraid, placated for the first time in his life from something that should have appaled him. But he had loved it.

That was how he knew that killing was truly for him and he loved the pure feeling it gave him so much that he never thought of it as a bad thing. He never thought of it as a bad thing till Gerard came around anyway, but he wouldn’t trade his baby in for the world, even if it meant getting this sort of wonder back.

Gerard was the new reason he did anything. Gerard was the only reason, and he had to get back to him or else. But he couldn’t take his eyes off of this.

The woman was dead now, and he had rummaged through her pockets enough to get a gun and her keys. The key was soaked with blood and he resisted the urge to put it against his lips. He wasn’t an idiot, he didn’t want to get sick. But there was something so alluring about blood, something that made him want to rejoice in it.

He turned back to Pete who was watching him, holding up the key. Pete nodded and ushered him forward.

They were reunited after a moment, letting Pete into where he was and getting ready to go out the back door to reunite with Gerard who was sitting in the getaway car. Frank didn’t know of Lyn-z, not yet. His goal now was just to get to Gerard, to get to Gerard and kill as many people as possible.

If there was anything to judge from the few minutes he spent staring at that woman, he needed to kill. He had that itch and he had to fulfill it. He couldn’t wait for Gerard to help him, he couldn’t wait to kill with him again, he would look so good covered in blood.

But little did he know, bitter as he recalls this, he was going to lose Gerard in the coming hour. He was going to lose him because of stacked up carelessness brought around by his lust. The corpses of rose petals were shiny on his lips. The blood was slick and Frank imagined a time where it had made him beautiful but now it was just a telltale sign of beauty being snuffed out. Forever, red would be a bitter color, forever would Frank remember what it was like to watch his baby die right in front of him.

It was a good thing that he wouldn’t have to do that for long, he was going to kill himself once Gerard died. He just didn’t want him to be alone, he didn’t want him to have to die alone, it wasn’t fair, he was too good for this.

But for now, he was ignorant to the fact that Gerard was going to die. He actually thought that they were going to get out of this alive.

“Pete, where’s Gee?” he asked.

“He’s in the car with this girl. He brought her in, an accomplice I guess.”

Frank’s worse fears were realized. Gerard had someone else with him and he was totally going to leave Frank. He was going to leave him all alone.

“What?” he asked. “A girl?”

“She’s head over heels in love with him,” Pete shrugged. He gave him another gun. Frank snuck that one in his back pocket.

He looked to Pete for any more information, but that was all that he could give him. At least they weren’t together, but he was less than pleased to hear that she was in love with him. Gerard was his, he was going to kill this chick. He was the only one that got to love Gerard, the only one that got to be with him.

He scowled and was determined to make it right, to claim Gerard as his again.

 

Meanwhile, in the car, Gerard was antsy, trying to see if he wanted to go in there and get Frank. Lyn-z was watching, waiting for him to do anything, because he looked so anxious to do it.

“Gerard, if you want to go in, go in,” she said.

“It’s more difficult than that, Lyn-z. I don’t know if I would blow their cover. I don’t know if they’ve done anything yet,” he said.

“They must have, go in there, what’s the harm in it? They need all the help they can get, I can fucking drive. Go on,” she said.

She wanted to follow after him, wanted to make sure that Pete knew what they had done. She knew that he would turn on Gerard and by extension, Frank, creating a riff, perfect for her to take Gerardand leave Frank stranded, but it would be hard getting out, Pete would probably take this car.

Unless, she killed him, too. That was a possibility, just wait till the carnage started than turn on everyone and take her prize.

She deserve Gerard, not Frank. She deserved him and she was going to get him.

She knew that she would. She just had to get Gerard to go in, or even better, convince him to let her go. That was an even better idea. “Gerard, if you really don’t want to go, I can do that,” she said.

He glanced at her. “Would you?” he asked. He was jittery right now, it was kind of funny to see. If she wasn’t completely in love with him, of course and wasn’t devising a plan to get him to be hers forever.

“Yes, of course. I’ll go in and check on them, help them out,” she said.

She got out and started walking towards the door, ready to kill anyone who stopped her.

This was the back though, and she doubted it, she would probably be surrounded by supplies. But she would go in there and she would start killing everyone, the more panic the better. Maybe she would let out a few inmates.

She looked back to Gerard sitting in the car and he was so unaware of the panic that she would cause. He was so unaware that this day was not going to go as planned if she could help it.

She was going to make Frank suffer. Gerard was hers and only hers. She would be the one to corrupt him, she would be the one to take him and make the world suffer with him. They were going to be something amazing.

 

Frank and Pete were just out of the place where they let the more high security inmates have their visiting time into the more communal area, starting to open fire at everyone they could see, keeping a special targets on the guards.

Frank had never done anything like this before, he really thought mass killings were tacky, but this was kind of fun. He was going to get to Gerard soon, he was going to see him soon and he would kiss every inch of him, he would explore every piece of his body.

The world was going to pay for taking them away from each other, they would be together again. He would make sure of it.

Nothing was going to keep him from Gerard, he had to keep him safe, even if it meant that he would have to die. He would do it for Gerard, he would do anything for Gerard. He was the meaning of life, he was the only thing that mattered in this world. He would do anything for him.

He kept this in mind when he shot someone down, him and Pete making their way through the common area. There was pandemonium starting to take hold, guards were dying and inmates were starting to grasp what they could do. Frank orange jumpsuit was starting to feel conflicting on his skin, he didn’t like the fact that he was covered in this fabric that told him he had done something wrong.

How could killing be wrong? It was too much fun. Everyone else was wrong, He was living his life. Hell, he had taught Gerard what it was like to kill and now he was so much more happier, his little baby was better for it, more fulfilled.

 

Lyn-z was making her way through, getting weird looks from the inmates who were still in their cells back here. There were no guards, presumably, then, they were all trying to take care of Pete and Frank. That was good, more chaos.

She shot the lock off of one of the cells. “Let everyone out,” she said to the person standing, slackjawed and in awe at the fact that they could just open their cell now because of this mysterious woman.

She smirked at him and jogged faster into the gunshots. That was where Pete and Frank were, she just knew it.

She shot a guard who was calling for backup. He was dead when she turned away. This was so much fun! But she had to find Pete, she had to tell him of what Gerard did.

Soon, he was found, back to back with Frank and shooting every blue shirt in here. “Hey, Pete!” she called to him, beckoning at him to come near.

He talked with Frank for a moment, before nodding and coming towards her. “What?” he asked.

Lyn-z ducked as a bullet passed her, going to shoot the person responsible for that. “Gerard killed Mikey,” she said. The gun was smoking in her hand, hot and ready for some more action. She couldn’t wait to get Gerard out of here and kill some more people. She really knew her potential now, and now she was sure to have a pension for stabbing people in the back. She was finding it more and more fun to meddle with things.

“What?” he asked, smile falling. The sound of bullets zipping was loud, the pop of a gun even louder.

She shrugged and licked her lips. “Had me bury him last night. He was getting in the way.” She wasn’t sure if she should have told him about that, if she should have let him know that she had a hand in it, but he didn’t seem to care.

This was falling apart more quickly than she thought it would because Pete was quick to storm off.

Frank was left to watch him, shooting at another guard who was coming near him before walking towards her.

“What did you say to him?” he asked. “What did you do?” She could tell that Frank already didn’t like her.

“I just told him that Gerard had killed Mikey.” She smiled to herself, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Why would you do that?” he asked angrily.

“He’s mine, Frank. This is just going to create a rift between him and Pete and then he’ll be left here, with me.” She brandished her gun at him and shot him a smile.

Frank was angry, jealous to say the least. He knocked her gun out of her hand, punching her in the next few seconds. The gun clattered to his feet and she staggered away, holding her nose which was starting to bleed.

She didn’t have time to react any further before she was shot, point blank.

He ran after Pete, making his way outside to where he was, where he could get away. He would kill him if he had to, he would murder him if he really needed to protect Gerard.

 

Pete was out by the car, talking frantically to Gerard. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he didn’t look angry, he was just trying to convince him to run in after Frank. He would make him think that Frank needed him to help and that Pete would wait, but he would leave without them. He didn’t need them, fuck them.

He was going to stab them in the back like Gerard probably stabbed Mikey. He shuddered at that when Gerard rushed inside.

He couldn’t believe it, he was too nice of a guy to kill his own brother, but apparently he had. He had killed him and he was gone now.

Pete wanted to cry. But mostly, he just wanted Mikey to be living again. He started the car and left them to the wolves.

 

Gerard ran inside, trying to find Frank. Pete said that he was hurt. He said that Gerard needed to go get him more than Pete did. Gerard didn’t question it. If Frank would hurt, he would just go and find him.

“Frank!?” he yelled into the silence of the cells, there was nothing there save a few bodies.

He kept running, calling his name and running towards him. “Frank!” he yelled as he ran to look for him, he was moving faster and faster, trying to get to him. He wanted to get to him, he needed to make sure that he was okay, that he was safe.

Frank ran into him with a gun in his hand and blood on his clothes, but he was okay. He was okay and Pete was a liar. Gerard looked him over. “Pete said you were hurt,” he said, confused. He was more gorgeous than he could remember though.

“Lyn-z said you killed Mikey.” Even in his confusion he was glad to have Gerard again. Gerard was in his arms and he couldn’t have felt better.

He leaned into kiss him before he could speak. But Gerard was shot, buckling in his arms.

 

Frank watched as he was snuffed out, slowly rotting away, his soul broken from the bullet lodging itself in his chest. Frank could feel his bones withering as he watched Gerard. Never again would death be a good thing, never again would he love the light leaving someone’s eyes.

He had killed the person that had shot him, a guard, shaking with the gun in his hand. There was nothing left of him anymore.

He had gotten Gerard good, right in the chest, something he could never recover from even if they tried to get him to a hospital. He was going to die, but he didn’t want to think about that.

A tear slipped from him, blurring his vision of Gerard. He clutched at his hand. He didn’t want to let him go for fear that he would slip away faster. He had to be closer to him. He wanted to be close to him. Forever and ever but he knew that he was going soon, it was his job to send him off. And then follow himself.

“I think you’re beautiful,” Frank said with a tear filled voice. He didn’t want to be crying for lack of seeing Gerard, he wouldn’t be able to look when he was dead, it was already hard now, he had to get in what he could.

Gerard’s face was drained of everything but a dreamy sort of pain. The only color on him was from the blood. The blood was splattered on him, on his cheek and near his lips. He looked gorgeous, god did he look beautiful.

But it was the bitter sort of beautiful, the one that was not going to last, like pictures made in sand. They would wash away and be gone forever.

Gerard clutched at his stomach a little more, the blood starting to drip through his fingers like the sand that just seems to never stay in one place for Frank even when he desperately needed it.

Gerard wiped away a tear from Frank’s eye, so dangerously close to slipping out and said with a pained laugh, “I think I’m dying.”

Frank let more tears fall from his eyes, salty and sorrowful, he had never cried at death before. He had never even cared before, but Gerard was something else. He wasn’t living, he was a way of life. He was meaning. And Frank was losing him. He was losing him and there was nothing he could do about it.

Everyone around them laid dead, laid dying, the place deserted of anything that could harm them anymore. But it was too late, the fray was over. All the guards were either dead or deserted and the inmates were all let out and gone. The only people left were him and Gerard but that was not enough alone time. There was never going to be enough time.

Frank wanted to fill the silence with something, he wanted to speak to Gerard just to hear his baby’s voice because he knew that he would never hear it again soon. He just wanted all of Gerard all of the time and he would have no one, never, ever again. This was it, this was the end of everything and it hurt so badly it would almost make up for the amount of people that he had killed before.

This was payback for what he had done. This was his karma for being a murderer. But he didn’t regret killing, just the consequences. If he hadn’t killed he would never have met Gerard. But this, him, killing, this was what got Gerard into this mess in the first place. He was dying because of him.

Frank watched Gerard tearfully, breathing in raggedly enough to let himself speak. “I don’t want you to go.”

Gerard smiled at him and moved his hand to brush the hair away from his tears stained cheek. “Baby, I’m not gone yet.” His voice was much more calm than Frank thought it would be when he was dying.

Frank himself was still afraid to do that, but Gerard looked serene, ready for what was to come and there was a lot of it. He had killed somebody, that was the worst thing that you could have ever done. He was going to go to a bad place when he died, if he went anywhere at all, and Frank wouldn’t be there to protect him.

He had promised to protect him and now there was nothing. There was nothing that he could do. Death was cruel. Death was biting back because he thought he could tame it.

But there was no such thing as a tamed death, it was a feral and wild beast and belonged to no one. He was realizing that now, he was realizing that he had made a grave mistake. He was paying for it with his lover.

Frank pet Gerard’s hair and noted the way he looked spacier. Oh, God, he was slipping away, he was falling away from him and Frank couldn’t save him, nothing could save him. He was just going to die and there was no way of making it better, no way of running away from this.

They were cornered here, ironically, after the one battle that should have gotten them out of this. They should have been free, they should have just gotten out of there. But no, Frank had fucked up, he had wasted all their time. Now there was nothing left of Gerard and there would soon be nothing left of Frank.

Their legacy would be snuffed, just like that, two lovers left with nothing but all these little deaths, lovers left with nothing but evil stuck in their chests.

Frank didn’t deserve Gerard, he didn’t deserve the happiness that he brought him. He didn’t deserve his tarnished goodness. But he would cherish him and then it would be his time. It would be his time to die once Gerard was gone.

Gerard blinked slowly, keeping his hazel eyes on him. “I’m afraid to die, Frankie.” His voice was soft, so much more broken than his body ever could be. He was terrified of what was happening to him, so scared of being alone.

Frank watched him, a bystander in his own lover’s demise. He didn’t want him to die, he didn’t want him to have to. He wanted to save him. He wanted to make sure that he was okay, but he wasn’t, he was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. It burned like salt in is wounds.

Frank held Gerard’s hand, another tear slipping down from his face. “I’ll be there soon, baby. No need to be afraid, I’m gonna keep you safe, okay?” Even in the face of death, Frank would transcend that, Frank would do anything for Gerard even if it meant going to a different dimension. He was going to take care of him, even if it meant dying himself.

“Frankie, I miss you,” Gerard’s ragged voice explained, frantically trying to hold onto what he was, to Frank and everything he was.

He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to be alone. He had done so many bad things that Frank wouldn’t be there to protect him, there would be nothing for him soon. He didn’t want to live when he couldn’t have Frank so he was dying. He was dying and not able to have Frank.

He could feel the space between them growing, even if they were closer than ever. He felt colder, the burning in his chest not making the winter of the rest of his limbs any better. He was dying and there was nothing he could do, there was no getting out of this. He was dying and he was terrified of losing Frank.

He took in a deep and ragged breath, licking his metallic lips. “Frankie, I love you.” It sounded like those would be his last words.

Frank kissed him on the cheek, laying down next to him on the cold floor, their arms knotted together, holding each other. He never wanted to let go, he never wanted Gerard to go anywhere, to belong to anybody else. He was his and Frank was Gerard’s. That had to mean something, their love was something different.

They had killed for each other, they had crossed the country to be safely with each other. He was the love of his life and whatever higher power was going to take him away from that. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Frank said, staring at Gerard, the way his eyes curved into his head, the way his cheeks looked when they were covered in the cold ash of dying. He was going to be going soon, and so would Frank.

He wasn’t upset about his own death, he would do it for Gerard, he would kill for him. He needed Gerard, it was the only way that he could be with him again and even if death was as cruel as life, he was still going to do it. Even if he never got to be with Gerard again, he’d rather take the chance and be alone in the afterlife than alone here any longer.

They had made mistakes, they had done things that they shouldn’t have and now they’re alone. Now, they’re nothing. The two lovers were melting away into the earth like the blood they had spilt. It was their fate in life to destroy everything till it destroyed them right back and they were facing those consequences.

They weren’t going to survive this and that pill got harder to swallow each time Frank realized it again.

“It hurts, Frank,” Gerard points out, tears in his eyes prickling his skin. They aren’t from sadness, they’re from the blood loss, from the fact that there was a bullet lodged into him, killing him slowly. He was going to die soon, his fate was already sealed but Frank wanted to make it easier on him.

Frank kissed the side of his mouth, “I know, baby, I know.” He buried his face into his cold and clammy skin. He would stay with him forever, Gerard was the only thing he wanted to do, the only thing that gave him meaning.

Gerard was his lover and he was going to stay faithful to him through the end. He was the love of his life, of course he would, no mater what he did he would always be there for him.

Unlike Pete, unlike his friend Lyn-z who changed on a dime. He would love him forever. He would be there forever, even when he stopped breathing.

He felt Gerard’s chest slow even more and he looked to him. His face was glazed over in pain. He wanted to make the hurt stop. He wanted to make him feel better. He just wanted to make sure that he was okay, protect him in some way. He wanted to make sure that he was safe, he had failed his job.

“Gerard, honey, you hanging in there?” he asked him. He was terrified of him dying, but he knew that it was hurting him. He would kill him if he asked him to. He would bury him and then kill himself, forever to be with him in their grave. He just needed to be with him. Forever.

Gerard nodded and he looked to Frank in pain. “I don’t want to die, Frank. I’m a bad person, Frank. I don’t want to die,” he said. His eyes were filled with fear.

Frank shushed his anxiety, hushing him up. “Shh, baby, I’m gonna take care of you okay. I’m gonna protect you.”

“But Frankie, you’re not dying,” Gerard said, tears running down his cheeks, giving him some form of complexion, even if it was splotchy.

“Soon, baby. Soon,” he assured him but this seemed to only agitate him further.

“I don’t want you to die, Frank. I don’t want you to die.” His tears were falling again, dropping out of his eyes and onto the floor.

Frank scooted closer, as close as he could get before he started pressing up against Gerard’s chest and hurting him. He snuck an arm around his shoulder. “Shh, baby. You won’t see it. But I’m coming after you, okay? I’m gonna follow you.” He kissed him again. He liked the feel of his lips on his, even if they were growing colder. There was still life in him yet, and Frank was going to cherish it. Gerard was his and he was going to cherish him.

Gerard didn’t answer, just kick started another whisper. “I’m so scared, Frank.” He sounded small.

He didn’t have the liberty of a cause. He wasn’t dying because Frank was, he was just dying. So it was worse for him to leave because he was losing something, Frank was going to have already lost him.

Frank smiled at Gerard, soft and calm and reassuring. “Don’t be scared, Gee. Don’t be afraid, okay? I’m coming, too.” He pet his face, soft and smooth and still alive for a few more precious moments.

Gerard took another breath, heavier in his lungs this time. It was getting harder to breath. “They’re gonna take you away. I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve happiness. Am I a bad person, Frank? We hurt so many people?” His voice was different now, tainted with the same pain and the same tears but harsher, harder on Frank’s ears. This was all the raw emotion that he had left in him, spilling out into the world.

There was nothing around them, there was no one but the warmth of their arms and the red of the blood that was starting to stain the floor. Frank wanted to make it better, he wanted everything to be fine again but he knew that he could never do that, Gerard would never get the luxury of being okay again.

“Shh, I’m coming, baby. No one’s ever gonna keep you from me, nothing is gonna stop me. I love you.” Frank couldn’t help but crack near the end, his voice breaking.

Gerard’s eyes were starting to close, heavy lidded and not really looking at much of anything. “I love you, too, Frank.” His voice was even softer, like he was drifting off into sleep.

Everything was just sleep, this would all be a bad dream that Frank would wake up from and get his baby back. Gerard wasn’t dying, he was just going to sleep and Frank was going to go with him. He was going to go with him.

Gerard took another breath, eyes opening just a little bit again to give Frank a new breath of green. “In the average person’s lifespan,” he takes another big breath and closes his eyes, “their heart will beat 2.5 billion times. I don’t think I got that many beats in,” he smirks.

Frank smiles back, tearfully accepting that this was really the end of them. This wasn’t something that he could avoid anymore, Gerard was dying right in front of him, wilting away in front of him. He was going. And Frank was so scared to be alone again, he had forgotten what it felt like and he didn’t want to taste the bitterness after knowing Gerard. Gerard was too sweet for him to go back to anything but. He was so scared of watching him die, but he didn’t want to look away because he wouldn’t be able to gaze on him when he really was dead. He had to appreciate his beauty now.

Frank blinked away some tears. “I don’t want to be alone, Gerard. I love you,” he took a deep breath at the end, curling in close to him again.

Gerard’s chest was expanding still, in and out, shallow. It was just like going to sleep, Frank told himself. It was just going to sleep.

He took another breath and let out a sob. He was so scared of the silence. He was so scared of letting go.

“I’m right here, Frank. I’m still right here,” he reassured him. But this didn’t help.

Frank knew that he was going, he was already practically gone. He was dying and he wasn’t going to come back to him. His heart was breaking, he was falling apart.

He sobbed again because he didn’t want to quiet to consume him. “I miss you, Gerrard. Even before I met you I missed you. You’re the only thing good in life, and I let you go. I’m sorry, baby.” By the time he had stopped talking, he was gone.

Frank couldn’t feel him moving anymore, couldn’t hear his breaths and his eyes weren’t opening. He was alone again and it hurt more than he could ever imagine.

He wiped away the rest of his tears and fumbled with the gun that was left next to them. He was going to follow, Gerard wouldn’t be alone.

Oh, he must have been so scared, he must have been terrified that Frank wasn’t there. He didn’t want to leave him waiting, he didn’t want to lose him.

He looked to him again. He was gorgeous, even in death. But it hurt too much to look at him, to stare at him was to die without meeting him, so he looked away.

The sound of a person entering was loud in his ears as he put the gun up to his head, closing his eyes and begging for death, he was coming, god was he going to come for Gerard. He wasn’t going to make him wait any longer.

He ignored the person that was running up to him and pulled the trigger, hoping that he and Gerard would be together again and death was kinder than life ever was.

But nothing happened. Nothing happened and both lovers were left alone. Frank was pulled away from Gerard’s body, taking with him the chances of ever being with him again.

The person pulling him was Armani. “You killed him, didn’t you? You fucking killed him!” she cried, placing handcuffs on him.

He started to screech with the fact that he was being pulled away from his darling. He was never going to see him again. He was never going to be with him again. He started pulling away. “I have to be with him!” he yelled.

He was trying to get closer to him but the further she pulled him away the more Gerard started to look like everyone else, alone.

He was dead and he was alone and Frank didn’t want to do that to his baby, he wanted to keep him safe, he wanted to let him know that he was okay, that was he was going to be okay. But he would never be able to do that. Because he was being taken away.

“You killed him! Just like you killed Lyn-z! And all these people! You sick bastard,” she muttered under her breath, keeping her hold on him and taking him away.

He would never get to be with Gerard again and it was all happening so fast. “Kill me! Kill me!” he shouted, pleading with her.

He was taken out of the building, farther away from Gerard, shouting.

“I’ll let the judge decide that,” she sneered at him.

He writhed again, trying to get out of her grip. “Please! I need to be with him! Please! Please! He needs me. I don’t want him to be alone,” his tears were falling again as she dragged him out of the parking lot, into the blinding sun.

He should have been with Gerard. He should have either died or set off into this blazing sun. But he was alone. And so was Gerard.

 

 


End file.
